Reckoning (A bear and doe story.)

You are the bear. A great grunting lumbering thing with a voice so low it rumbles in my chest, and I can barely distinguish the words from behind that beard. Something about life in our woods, the bush and all the beer cans and cigarette butts living on the brown hardwood of your apartment floor. A constant stream of thunder from between your teeth, while you stand, legs apart, hands on naked hips in front of your closet, barely aware of your exposed skin.

I listen from the bathroom, doe eyes and a deer neck and a soft pelt for my predator. I carefully cover the square angry marks of your savage mouth and wild flat fingers. These spots that blend me into your earth tone world and keep me protected. To you, a backwoods greeting, something between umost care and utter indifference.

(When we fuck-yes, fuck-you pull me on top of you, long white legs bent around a muscular brown frame, rocking with a gruff steady rythmn. And you press my neck between your hands, gently but firmly stroking and squeezing my throat, never breaking eye contact.
A look.
A hunt.
A way to be eaten whole.
A reckoning.)

those anarcho punks are mysterious.

We’re all presidents, we’re all congressmen
we’re all cops in waiting, we are all workers of the world
there is the elite and the dispossessed
and it’s only about survival
who has the skill to play the game for all it’s worth
and reach an obscure kind of perfection
let’s try and keep as much emotion out of this as possible
let’s try not to remember any names
we’ll do it for for a country, for a people, for a moral vision
united we’ll make them remember our history
or how we’d like to be told

And we rock because it’s us against them
we’ve found our own reasons to sing
and it’s so much less confusing when lines are drawn like that
when people are either consumers or revolutionaries
enemies or friends hanging on to the fringes of the cogs in the system
it’s just about knowing where everyone stands
all of a sudden people start talking about guns
talking like they’re going to war
because they’ve found something to die for
start taking back what they stole
sure beats every other option

But does it make a difference how we get it?
well do you really fucking get it?

No,no,no,no….

-against me

dullsville

We went outside for an hour and he squatted beside her, humming into her ear on the step.
While I imagined that I was invisible,
Tiny and gone.
Crawling between my ears and staying.

Now I’m counting you among the casualties.
On that list
Of people I pretty much didn’t bother calling anymore
Because you just weren’t interested
And I suppose I’ve never been that interesting.
Just this big lumbering quiet thing
With paint stained everywhere
Staring down into her
Liquor store bag
Picking her dirty fingernails
And looking for an excuse to leave.