blue sky (tinged w/crimson)

the back room of a quiet suburban neighborhood home. they lay there on the carpet, the blue sky of dusk tinged with crimson coming through the skylight. she looked at the pizza menu. his mind loosed, then dropping away into a void, a darkness where blood coalesced, then splashed away by a flood of water.

"ok we're getting pineapple and jalapeno, my favorite!" she said, then a brief silence. suddenly he was back in the present, a loud pounding on the back fence and a shouted "auxilio! auxilio!". at first it sounded like punk rock, but something was way wrong about the sound. without thinking, he leapt up and ran into the garage, pushing the automatic door opener.

she followed, with an overwhelming sense of dread, and yelled "don't go out there", but he didn't hear her as he looked for a stick or some kind of weapon. she stopped at the back of the garage, anger in her bones at his impulsive rush into this.

as the door lifted, he ran out onto the drive, and stopped cold. a suburban looking brown-skinned man, orange t-shirt on all fours at the end of the driveway looking up plaintively. three thugs in black ski-masks stood over him yelling, punching, kicking.

again, without thought, he blurted out the lie: "get the fuck outta here, the cops are on the way!". immediately they started to run down the alley, and the crack of pistol shots rang in his ear. he froze in place at the hood of the minivan wanting, but unable to move. the man on the ground stared up and into the last eyes of mercy he would ever see.

an eternal moment, and he sprang to life, running into the garage, hitting the switch to close the door and falling into the house, almost knocking her down. he could hear the working of the mechanism, closing slowly, way too slowly.

the man, hit now and spurting blood in gentle arcs, crawled toward the narrowing slit of the garage, and collapsed at the foot of the minivan. lying there, bleeding out and fading, his last image of this earth a sideways view up and into the now red speckled blue sky.

in the house, they stared intently into each others faces for a moment, and he left her again, going out the front door and sneaking around the side of the house. lying low, he watched a black navigator,the last of the crew, pull out of the alley. there was no body, only pools of blood.

fifteen minutes later, one cop car arrived out front, and two officers spilled out and into the alleyway. they stood in the front yard with some neighbors, waiting for some news, and tensed up as the thugs pulled by slowly in front of them.

"we have to leave now", he said. back inside, they furiously piled clothes in a bag, enough for a couple of nights, and ran out to their cars. as they pulled away from the curb, one behind the other, two vehicles passed them, and then dog-legged around the cul-de-sac to get behind them again.

his heart pounding, he dialed her cell phone and yelled "they're following us!". they were almost out of the neighborhood now, and saw the flashing lights of a cop car who had someone pulled over. "pull up next to the cop, alright?", and he hung up the phone. the truck and car following them passed slowly by and exited onto the main road.

catching his breath now, he waited thirty seconds before they pulled onto the road again, and drove up a block to the highway bridge. sitting at the stoplight, he paused and then ((whammm)) a car rear-ended him, pushing his car into her truck.

"christ!" in a panic, he dialed her number again and yelled into the receiver "go! don't get out of your truck!" they pulled ahead and the car sped past them. he was breathing rapidly now as she jumped out of the truck and ran back to him.

"breathe, o.k.?", she said. "hare krishna, hare krishna, krishna krishna..." she calmed him enough to drive, and they pulled away, into the oncoming night.

" destroy this temple "

passed out, feverish for days he lay among the rubble. dishevelled piles of stones around him as though burial mounds from some forgotten war. eyes convulsing, he dreamt in rapid fire sequences, image upon image, travelling somewhere rapidly, never at rest, never at peace.

a sound among the ruins and he awoke, it seemed into yet another layer of perception. in the shadows, she was there, crouched and slinking towards him. she crawled the last few feet, drew near and mounted him furiously. plunging into him with a vengeance unrestrained, she leaned in close, as though to steal his breath away. he felt relief give way to fear and panic, as the thrusts turned to violent spasms.

now others came upon them in the darkness, lovers from past lives, themselves in various guises. they joined them, forming a writhing mound among the fallen stones. all the bodies they had ravaged from here to eternity joined in at once, flailing away at every orifice, as flesh began to tear and blood mixed with come and sweat. he mocked her and turned to move away, but was pulled back into the fray.

finishing now, they kicked her back and onto him. he screamed yet nothing came out, the weight of those around and on them having expunged the air from his lungs. the mass of flesh continued to move for a time. some retched now, and gradually all turned back to silence.

some time later, he began to scratch and claw his way out from under the pile of bodies. bruised and shaken, his blood mixed with semen, bile and earth, and congealed into a crust upon him. slowly regaining his senses, he began to break off and pull away chunks of the putrid mud from his skin.

he stumbled now to the quarry, grabbing the last of the kerosene and turned back to the mound of bodies. approaching, he saw her crawl out and away into the darkness. without hesitation, he flung the kerosene onto the remnant, struck a match and threw it onto the pile.

a ball of flames rose up and with the dry blast of a furnace, violently threw him back and onto the ground. burning flesh and bone transformed to huge chunks of ash and sparks as they lifted up into the night sky. scorched now, he threw the holy books, votives and sacramentals that remained onto the pyre, turned and staggered away into the night.

fall dreams (wave ride/night running/catching train/border tunnel)

((wave ride)) he floated out with the surf, the waves swirling and picking up, lifting him around some rocks and out into the deep, surging water. out further, bobbing and weaving past five or six celebrities, their tanned skin and sunglasses glinting.

suddenly a wave caught him and with a swoosh carried him in, the surf piping into a channel, a fast-running amusement park water ride. gliding in with the others, he rode the waves, the water cold and clean, in under a building now the surf broke on a transitional beach.

he came up out of the water, stepping onto the sand and walked to the side, where he stepped onto an escalator to ride up and back out to the water. two girls, one in front and one behind shadowed him. as they went up the escalator, the one behind pushed her finger through his swimsuit and stuck it into his ass.

he turned to look at her and...

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((night running)) it was night and he was running, running to get away from the authorities. out across a field, a baseball field, breathing heavily he crossed. neon blue laser light beams criss-crossed the field from every direction, moving at random and chaotic intervals. ducking and twisting now as he ran, trying to keep from being cut to pieces by the lasers.

as he moved beyond their range, now into the darkened outfield, the ground became rough and uneven as he ran. each footstep now gave way to a sickening crunch. he looked down and saw the skulls of dogs crackling under each footfall. revolted, he turned his gaze out across the field, and saw an endless stretch of skulls, many thousands of them across the ground all the way to the outfield fence.

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((catching train)) he was on foot, walking through the old-west theme park, trying to find a way through. men in period costumes, round-glasses, and curly moustaches passed by arm in arm with saloon girls. wooden signs with directions painted on hands, extended fingers pointing in various ways only confused him.

he went down a dusty hall and found his way out through a side door. now he was in a large, empty parking lot, trying to get to the local mall across the way. a chain link fence encircled the lot, but he saw a truck going out through a steel gate. he ran and squeezed through just as it closed. down a drainage ravine and back up the other side he passed and was about to cross some railroad tracks to reach the road when a train approached.

as it passed, he saw men sitting on top and hanging from the sides of the dirty freight train. british soldiers and indian peasants in white fabrics, all of them covered in dust. he grabbed onto the handrail of a car and swung up on top of a coal car, and watched as they passed back from where he came, the mall receding into the distance.

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((border tunnel)) they were in a construction tunnel, the sides boarded with plywood. it constricted and funneled them to a makeshift entrance, where a guard stopped and questioned them.

passing through, he came out into bright sunlight and the fresh cold air of early spring. green fields stretched out to his right. he turned the other way and walked up a short gravelled hill, then onto a winding, hilly street with large two- and three-story boarding houses that had been mansions for the wealthy a century ago.

(only a month later, he passed on this street in old el paso, only a block from, and looking down on the u.s. mexico border fence and crossing)

\\ namo guan shi yin pu sa //

(intro: aggressive drum roll: 150+ bpm / 4 measures then bass and guitar add on)

namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
mother of mercies, hear our cries.

he's a big baby, see him cry,
suck on her 'til the day he die.
he got wings, but cannot fly,
mother of mercies, hear his cries.

namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
mother of mercies, hear our cries.

she got needs no man can see,
tired of being on her knees.
needs some refuge and some peace,
mother of mercies, please...

namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
namo guan shi yin pu sa,
mother of mercies, hear our cries.

temple not made by hands

for days, for weeks on end, he was listless and numb to the turn of events which he had set into motion. again fear had compelled him as it had so many times before to tear down the temple they had built haltingly and with such trepidation, and yet still it glistened in the fading sun, stones toppled and shining like nuggets of gold scattered in the dust.

at night, camped out among the ruins, glancing through the torn pages of the holy books he searched in vain for some wisdom, something to explain the emptiness he felt inside. when the faltering light of the generator finally sputtered to silence, there in the dark he lay still, the sweat pooling on his skin.

the wind blew as he felt her slip by him in the dark. his breath grew shallow and he sank deep inside, feeling the ravaged heart beating. down he went, down the torrent rushing out and through the arteries and veins, spreading as a wave breaks on the surface of land and coursing through him in a pulsing flood.

finally, when the generator ran out of fuel, he began to place candles among the fallen stones. on his knees he leaned into a heavy rock, and began to push it back into place, then another, and another. in the flickering light her shadow seemed to jump out at him, and then fade like an illusion.

late in the night, it began to rain, a cold relentless downpour, extinguishing what was left of the candle light. his tears mixed with the wetness, as he pushed through the mud, adding stone upon stone.

it was there the realization came over him, empty and alone sinking into the sorrows of new and uncharted depths. he was powerless to halt the worship that had opened in his heart now one year hence. he could tear down the temple once, twice, a hundred times, and scatter the stones to the farthest ends of the earth, yet she would never depart from that place inside him.

that moment he bowed down into the mud, and with great care lifted the next gleaming stone up out of the mire, setting it into place there upon the rock. briefly he paused, and then down again, he disappeared into the void.

* strays *

MORNING

"goddam that motherfuck'n' motherfuck'r, i'm gonna kill him!!!" hyatt was raging through the gallery space, and stopped right in front of his newly sold artwork. "he took my fuck'n' keys and has my truck and won't answer the phone, and i'm gonna fuck'n' kill him..."

eyeing the fragile floor piece, he circled around it, sizing it up, as though looking for a weakness, some place to land his foot in one tour de force death blow. suddenly he came to a standstill, force gathering momentum, about to reach critical mass.

it was then, jamie bolted in: "where's my fuck'n' shit, hyatt thrush?"

"it's in the motherfuck'n' truck, and chase won't answer his phone!!!"

"that sonofabitch, if i get my hands on him..." she reached out and gave hyatt a hard push.

the artwork, a louis xiv replica chair made of styrofoam sat there, oblivious to the ensuing chaos.

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AFTERNOON

chase walked in, paint besmirched tattered hoodie zipped and stretching over his belly, black frame glasses taped together, studious and chill all at the same time.

he looked down at hyatt's piece, now boxed up in cardboard. "hey guys, how's it goin'...sell anything?"

"actually, yes. say, hyatt's been tryin' to get ahold of you."

"yeah, i lost my phone. i've been hangin' out with my friend matt. he drives a forklift, we met at the bar last night."

"the exhibition organizers are throwing a party right down the street, you wanna go with me and m.f.?

we closed shop and walked outside the large exhibition hall, heading with the other hipsters toward the searchlights waving randomly down the street. queing up, we moved steadily toward the door. now at the entrance, security pulled out a flashlight.

"let's see some i.d." we flashed him our drivers licenses as chase fumbled through his pants and hoodie pockets.

"i can't find mine. will you take a school i.d.?"

"hell no."

"let's just go eat guys," m.f. chimed in. we left the line and headed to the pizza pie house.

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EVENING

"i'm just existing...existentializing my existence in this space and time, drifting...peace, not looking for trouble. an animated protoplasm of energy and matter, looking for something..."

chase, wasted and high, rambled on in the back seat of the cab as we looked for his hotel. "it's right over there, oh yeah that's the one."

m.f. threw the driver a twenty and we piled out into the cold stiff wind coming in off the lake. scrambling through the entrance, the night manager gave us the eye as we looked for an elevator.

"you gotta use your keycard to work the elevator," m.f. observed. chase fumbled the card out of his pants pocket and held it wavering in his hand.

"lemme help," i grabbed the card and slid it into place...nothing happened. then the night manager appeared, looking over our shoulders. "can i help you?"

"we're tryin' to get our friend to his room," m.f. said as the man eyed us suspiciously.

"i wanna take a look at that card," he grabbed it from my hand. "that's not our hotel, you need to go a half-mile up michigan avenue," and gave us an extra stern look as he handed back the card.

"alright, thanks." we high-tailed it out of the hotel lobby back into the night, looking to see if security was onto us. m.f. hailed another cab, and five minutes later we were in front of the right hotel.

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LATE NITE / EARLY MORNING

up in their room on the seventeenth floor, i flopped down on the carpet and started flipping through channels, looking at nothing in particular. chase sat next to m.f. on the bed and started fumbling with his shirt. "you gotta label on there somewhere?"

jamie and hyatt tumbled through the door in from the hallway. "chase, where the fuck'r my keys?" eyes half-closed, chase reached into his hoodie and tossed the keys over the bed. "my clitoris gave birth to your mother," he trailed off into nonsense.

hyatt dove behind the bed, grabbing the keys, and went into a frenzy, pulling open drawers, then leaning into his suitcase and throwing clothes into the air. "where the hell's my glass pipe?!"

"shut the fuck up you lost it, you sonofabitch," jamie yelled back.

"give me my fuck'n' glass pipe," hyatt yelled in reply.

i leaned over and whispered to chase, "say, we'll catch you tomorrow." m.f. and i waded through the pile of empty bottles, dirty clothes and tools on the floor, and pulled the door shut behind. as we moved down the hallway, jamie's voice cut through the early morning haze: "hyatt, you fuck'n' idiot, i got your glass pipe right here..."

johnny rude (indian summer dream)

it began on the side of a dirt road, late afternoon, leading down into the valley. he was a young girl hanging out with three others, all of them around eighteen. the thin brunette, andrea, peeled off a wad of bills and threw some to each of them. "there's your cut...four-hundred fifty each, y'all have fun."

he pocketed the cash and headed down the road to the little tavern at the foot of the valley. walking inside, the warm, familiar glow of wood paneling and blood orange shag carpet welcomed him.

now a guy, he sauntered over to the side bar and leaned over the cute girl in front of the mini-jukebox. "lemme have a play at that," he whispered as he pushed into her, sliding a quarter into the machine and pressing his selection.

saxophone music rattled out of the blown speakers and followed him across the tiny room to the gambling machine. he pulled a crisp twenty out of the wad, fed it in and the game came to life.

"say, this is kinda like that space shoot 'em up that i used to play," he thought, except the reaction time was really slow. he would press two, three, or four times before a shot would squeeze out at the descending alien ships.

suddenly the lights flickered and someone yelled "closing time!" the game started to shut down and he turned to the door. just then his friend nicki threw a bill at the juke box and yelled to the attendant, "play me that song!", and pushed open the wooden revolving door, stepping to the street outside.

he followed after his friend, walking out into the young night air, neon flickering around him, and started down the street, walking with a fancy cane now. suddenly from behind, the tavern keeper, a middle-aged loser with slicked down hair, ran up and said, "hey you lost your money in the machine!"

"yeah, i left eighteen dollars in there when it shut down."

"well here's your money, johnny rude," said the man throwing a twenty his way. he screwed open the top of his cane, and pulled out a gold ingot from a hidden slot, handing it to the man in a move that surprised himself.

then, reaching down to the ground he picked up the bill, along with the rest of his cash, which had fallen there. shoving the wad into a recognizable stack, he stuffed it back into his pocket. "i'm gonna let my friends play their hands, me i'm buryin' my talents," he thought and commenced to walk away.