dmseay

you get so scared out here alone…with each car passin’ a little bit of hope goes by…on down the road…leavin’ you behind…wonderin’…why didn’t they pick me up…what’s wrong with me…that family of four in the station wagon with New Mexico plates would’ve been perfect…I could’ve sat in the back with the dog…maybe they’d offer me sandwiches from the cooler…some kind of pimento cheese deal on white bread with a can of Faygo to wash it down with…that would’ve been nice…

there was that one woman who passed me by in the red Mazda…she was wearin’ sunglasses to hide her eyes from the sun that’s beating down…I saw her look my way…maybe she thought about it…thought about some kind of Harlequin Romance novel where the young mysterious man gets picked up by this divorced woman who left her husband ’cause she wasn’t gettin’ enough lovin’ at home…so she took off to great highways of America to find her true love…and there he was…standin’ on the side of the road wit his thumb out waitin’ on her the whole time…he was waitin’ on her specifically…he denied rides left and right until she came along…’cause he knew she was out there lookin’ for him…he’d walked for miles backwards in the hot Texas sun with pavement melting all over his cowboy boots…but…he knew she’d pick him up…he just knew it…had a gut feelin’…sometimes our guts are wrong…that woman just kept on drivin’…kept on drivin’…

hell…even the old man in the rusted out Ford pickup had left me behind…some kind of man on his way to Mexico to pick up a bride…he’d met her online and he was headin’ south to Nogales to sweep her off her feet…a young girl…barely eighteen…couldn’t speak a lick of English…he figured he needed some woman to take care of him…but…he passed me by…I would’ve listened to his bullshit for a few hundred miles…I wouldn’t mind goin’ ‘cross Arizona…he’d probably tell me stories of his old wife…how she died of cancer…right there in his arms…right after he told her he loved her…that’s probably what happened…

this heat plays tricks on you…these stories in my head keep on unfoldin’ with each car that passes by…some trucker out on 40…goin’ ‘cross America…same way I’m headin’…could it be…naw…just another passer-by…he wants to get home to his honey…don’t we all…

and there you were…in front of me the whole time…if you were a snake you would’ve bitten me…actually…I think you did….

you…with ginger hair and emerald eyes…what are your plans for me…sending me these pictures of you…telling me you want to be my true love…your bite has left a mark…

I wait for your next move…too scared to throw myself in the lake…it’s been a long time…too long…

your honesty scares me…or is it all lies…hard to tell…this is a different time…I can’t read your eyes…or tell what that slight grin is up to…

women I’ve met over cocktails…how I long for those days…days without cellphones…numbers on napkins…

I’ll wait…I’ll wait…

there’s a truth to what you’re sayin…’bout how life just turns over and over without any stops…we think it’s goin’ slow…but…it’s not…time goes real fast…

America has a way of creepin’ up on ya…has a way of bringin’ everything to a head…you thought you were ready…prepared all your life for a catastrophic event…the death of a loved one…heart attack…those nights you can’t sleep that keep addin’ on and on throughout the course of a life…no peaceful rest…it’s always somethin’ keepin’ you awake…behind on the mortgage…car payments…that tooth you had pulled set you back some…it’s always somethin’…

you never had time to take that trip out West…see the mountains…visit the desert and just get lost…drivin’ along the roads that were built years ago by men who sweated and moaned while the afternoon sun came down upon them…turnin’ their skin into leather…burn becomes brown…they always wanted to escape as well…go off some place where it’s nice and cool…shady trees…blue ocean…cocktails in carved out pineapples…with some cherry and orange stickin’ out on a sword…

we all have a vision of what we think our lives are gonna be…married with kids…a steady job…a Sunday newspaper opened up to the entertainment section…lookin’ for a movie…somethin’ to take our minds off that thing that keeps us down…is there a Heaven or Hell…life after death…was the preacher man right when he said that the sweet love of Jesus saved us and only those who believe in him will see an ever lasting life…we think ’bout these things…thoughts throughout our lives…sittin’ on a fence post…wonderin’ which way to take off…

we’re always on that fence post…

she played with these shadows that came into her room through blinds…casting them on solid white walls that were bare…no pictures of loved ones…family…just a blank space…

she’d move her arms up and down…forward and back…looked like bird wings flying in the sky as the sun cast it’s evening shade…

sometimes she’d lay on her back with her legs up in the air like some trapeze artist…classical music would play as she extended her long legs and toes pointed towards the ceiling…she’d laugh…

these shadows were her friends…her confidants…she told them secrets…about her younger days…why she was alone…that boy down the street who threw morning papers…how she wished for his youth…

and…the shadows listened to her…no one else did…just an old woman telling secrets to shadows…until darkness came…until darkness came…

it’s stupid on your part…spending money on women that you don’t even have…face it…you’re too poor to have a woman…hear me…

I hear ya…

women sense it when you’re poor…you don’t even have wheels brother…how’re you gonna take a woman out without a car…they don’t like city busses…

I don’t know…that’s the part that always mystified me…why would some woman want a broke guy…one who lives in a sleeping room…then it hits me…they don’t…

no…of course they don’t…they’re always looking for a better deal…security…that’s what they want…

I thought women were becoming more independent…

don’t kid yourself…it’s one or two things…money and children…if you can’t supply both…then you’re out in the cold…

yep…

you go on these dating websites…what do you tell women…you mow yards…do odd jobs…they don’t wanna hear that…they’d rather you were committing crimes at Halliburton…anything to keep dough coming in…and you…you think their gonna fall for your hopeless romantic bullshit…forget about it…’sides…you’re better off by yourself…I know a guy…been married three times…keeps getting married…know why…’cause he can’t be alone…he’d rather be miserable than alone…think about that…

right…yeah…you’re right…

you think…

it’s just not right…

nothing ever is….

there’s a lot of anger inside of you…,she said…,you’re always boilin’…’bout to explode…but…you never do…,the blonde grabbed herself another beer from the cooler sitting on the back patio…under stars…a full moon…

seems like you just get to that tippin’ point then you back off…,she handed him one as well…,makes me wonder sometimes if we’d all be better off if you’d just go off some day…go off like a bomb…get it all out of your system…,she said as she adjusted her bra strap and lit a cigarette with the brass Zippo he’d given her on her birthday…,you notice things ’bout people throughout the years…funny ain’t it…

the sitck man sat here tapping his beer can with his forefinger…noticed there were clouds movin’ in…still remained silent…didn’t say a word…reached over and turned on the radio to some all night jazz station at the lower end of the dial..

I don’t know what to say ’bout you…,the woman got up and began to walk over to him…her shadow was cast ‘cross the yard…she began tossing his hair about…thick black hair that was in need of a cut…,gettin’ curls she said…big ol’ cow licks…,she began to laugh…he placed his beer on the concrete and got up from his chair…

you care to dance…,he said…and he grabbed her by the arm and led her out to the cool dewy grass where their feet sunk into the earth just a bit…she leaned on his chest and he held her real tight…Bill Evans Trio played on the radio…she smiled…let her arms drape around his shoulders…

what am I gonna do with you…,she said…what am I gonna do with you…

look at the sky…

it’s orange…

yeah…orange…and kinda purple…

I see that…real picturesque…day’s comin’ to an end…real quiet…very little noise…cars passin’ by in the distance sound like waves on an ocean…the comin’ in of the tide…listen…you hear that…sparklers…kids playin’ with sparklers…that sound they make…that hissin’ sound…hear it…

do…

sounds like Summer…the sky looks like Summer…

it is Summer…

I used to think there was nothin’ mysterious ’bout this season…but as it gets darker and we go into night…well…seems like a mystery…seems undiscovered…

does…

hand me a beer…listen…hear that…

people talkin’…

yeah…tellin’ ghost stories probably…

what makes you say that…

’cause it’s a good night for a ghost story…

it is…it is a good night for that…

I get visited by ghosts…

who visits you…

mom…dad…old friends…

you’re puttin’ me on…

some people have that way ’bout em…they attract ghosts…

I never seen one…

’cause you’re not in touch with that side of life…

and you are…

I am…probably get visited tonight…believe me…

nope…

think I make this stuff up…

yep…

tell you what…one day when I’m a ghost I’ll visit you…

really…

then you’ll see…then you’ll see…

hand me a beer…

sure is quiet…

yeah…

He hadn’t called for days…one or two places…a bar or a jail cell…this was not uncommon…he’d flare up every three months or so…get paid from some job and go out and spend it all on shots and beer…looked for the cheapest deal in town…

This had been goin’ on for the longest of time…ever since I known him…just this lust to find trouble…drinkin’…fightin’…gettin’ into arguments with whoever come along…he had this anger streak in him…and you never knew when it was gonna pop up…but it did…it did…

The man had fists made from the jawbone of an ass…strong hands from workin’ construction…bustin’ up concrete all day with a jackhammer or a sledge…they were big and red…calluses on em…burn marks in between fingers where he let cigarette butts burn down to his thick skin…he always wanted every little bit…

And he used those hands for fightin’…always fightin’…thought he knew everything…didn’t like to be proven wrong…particularly by blacks…was always callin’ em by derogatory names…way he was raised…just like most workin’ class whites in St. Louis…a divided city…just like Chicago…or Boston…Cleveland…the list goes on in America…a segregated country…

I’ll betcha he’s sittin’ in a jail cell or a grave…somebody’d might’ve had enough of him…could’ve…

He hadn’t called for days…

He’d sit there and wait for the phone to ring…a call from anybody…old friends…ex-wives…family members he hadn’t talked to in months…years…

In the middle of the night he pulled out his phone book…started with the A’s…left messages…,Just callin’ to say hi…,he said…,Just checkin’ in…,hang up the phone and wait…still…after hours…no-one returned his calls…

They were calls out of desperation…he must’ve called twenty people that night…wantin’ to talk to somebody…anybody…each call was like rollin’ dice…an outside chance that someone would pick up…most likely not…

So he went to bed that night and began talkin’ to himself…’bout old times…times with the people he called out to…he talked for hours…in and out of sleep…with thoughts turnin’ into dreams…an ex-wife tellin’ him things were gonna be OK…friends sayin’…,Snap out of it…your best years are ahead of ya…,he’d wake in a pool of sweat…reach over to the phone…and still…no-one had called…

The two had split up long ago…right after high school…she went off to college and he traveled the country going from one town to the next…they’d talk every once in awhile…old stories and remember when…then they lost touch…he became more distant with her…with everybody…no one heard from him…it was like he just vanished…became a ghost…

She carried on in life…married twice…couple of kids from the first one…some insurance salesman…a real practical guy…never was one for adventure…she longed for it…swore as soon as the kids were grown she’d go out and look for a mess to get into…some man who lived on the edge…maybe a biker or somethin’ like that…a trucker who hauled freight down to Mexico…now she wanted out of this town…

He kept on travelin’…never settled down…his whole family had given up on him…they didn’t reach out to him and he never contacted them…just kept doin’ odd jobs…livin’ in homeless shelters…spendin’ days at the library readin’ Beckett…Joyce…Miller…Spinoza…he had a curious mind…

And she found her biker…some mechanic who loved to travel in packs…she thought she’d become a member of a new family…bunch of motorcycle riders hell bent on drinkin’ and ridin’ through West Texas…into New Mexico…lookin’ at red clay walls of mountains and blue skies…she loved wrappin’ her arms ’round his big gut and holdin’ on for dear life…she got her adventure…

One day the traveler realized he was growin’ tired of the whole movin’ from town to town…realized from readin’ Meister Eckhart that there was nothin’ in this life…nothin’ after as well…the true existence of man was nothin’…God was nothin’…and if he was somethin’ he’d just as soon not have nothin’ to do with him…so…he kept hearin’ these voices tellin’ him to go back to his hometown…see what he gave up…years had passed…

Life kept on goin’ for her…thought she was happy…pleased in her ways…but…there was always somethin’ in the back of her mind that left her unfulfilled…she was never gonna be happy…so…she left the biker and got a job at the Piggly Wiggly store as a check out girl…comin’ to the conclusion that life was nothin’…just nothin’ but a series of misadventures…

First thing he did when he got back into town was go down to the neighborhood tap…no one knew him…wasn’t recognized…didn’t talk to anybody…just sat there drinkin’ a cold Bud…two stools down in the corner she sat drinkin’ a tall one herself…they didn’t notice one another…didn’t talk…there was nothin’…nothin’ at all…just two worn out souls drinkin’ in a bar…lookin’ for nothin’….and nothin’ is what they found…