It was down there, at his physiognomy shop when he suddenly got painfully bored. Not a single customer had showed that day, or, according to the books ----for the last century-Plus!-Nobody! Also, I believe the other shopkeepers thought of him as ‘a tad’ different, and maybe, a little ‘touched’, but obviously incredibly persistent. Anyways, it’s them that call him a fool, not me. I’m just the narrator.
So …his tools are a little rusty. Yes. His favorite tool, his physiognomy %@$#$%, his trusty measuring device, just the other day ---well, it just snapped in half. He lifted it up and …it crumbled. He chalked it all up, his situation, as another victim of the ‘great recession’? But he even had to shake his head after that thought, and started pacing.
So he pressed the elevator button, to the street level, with the thought that some fresh air would do him good. But once at street level he looked ---way far ahead, and decided to go for a walk. There was a lot of foot traffic. His eyes jumped to the people’s faces. It was a good day to be a physiognomic? He was still fascinated.
He kept walking. He laughed to himself. He knew the people better than they knew themselves, he thought, just by a slightly turned-up nose. He felt better. He kept on walking. Now, faster he walked. His shoulders straightened. He now seemed taller than the rest of the foot-traffic on his Market Street. He had the perfect vantage point to view their faces. He could even see who was up to what?-the previous night.
He kept on walking, but took a left and was soon in the subway. For a moment he was fascinated as saxophone sounds showed the way to the trains, with the musician’s huge cheeks telegraphing the next pitch.
But …he briefly looked down at the hat, the musicians register, and started counting something on his fingers. It was, perhaps, a comparison between the twos, him and the musicians, per annum, before taxes, salaries. Suddenly, he needed ‘a moment’?
He sat down.
He had a close view of the symmetry of the saxophonist’s cheeks bursting what sounded like musical laughs. It was good. He sat there all afternoon ---the musician too. The musician, for the most part, loved Charlie Parker, well, more than not. But as soon as he changed the mood to Miles Davies ---the miracle moved. A particular woman smiled a wonderful smile.
He stood up. The musician stood too. They took their hats off. She loved Miles Davis and stopped to grab her purse. She had heard the music on her approach, to somewhere, to the trains, and dropped a bill in the musician’s register. She leaned against a wall and lit a smoke. She didn’t make another move.
Both men briefly walked in circles. Then the musician almost strangled his saxophone, and was soon playing as if possessed, he was MAD, as Miles Davis was screaming in that subway hallway. Soon, hundreds of people were following that particular, smiling woman, smoking a particular cigarette, leaning against that subway hallway, happily waiting for the N-train.
The scene played on until the N and other trains made their approach. That particular woman, the miracle, now unknown to her was being followed by a physiognomic going through a ‘rough-patch’. It was her cheeks, the symmetry, a dimple even, “Wow,” he exclaimed to me later.
He kept following her ---for over two decades. As earlier mentioned, he was one persistent f-ing guy, self admittedly. You see, he thought he used to be a king, and now, after two decades following a miracle, he was worried that it might lead to nothing, or, a man simply holding an empty bag. He decided he must, now!-at all costs ---at least give her a call, probably not text her. He was still working on that.
He grabbed and dropped his phone, but: “Hi!” “Hi!”
“I’m a miracle-agent, looking for a particular woman that smokes a particular cigarette, and likes Miles Davis.”
“I thought you were a physiognomic.” The miracle says ---stunned.
He laughed, “What story have you been reading? Those cheeks are worth billions!!!!!!!!
The End
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Foodstuffs
…the strange gray ‘foodstuffs’ kept filling the Jones’s household refrigerator, only for these strange foodstuffs to be found in the Smith’s family refrigerator, the Vernals, until it was found across the entire continent, to move quickly across the world. The catastrophe had a quick spark, with plenty of hunger, as the people seemed forced to look the other way …
Susan, a teacher, now centuries later, tells her students, Her-Story, of the events where love, in every sense, completely unraveled …
She continues with a piece of chalk in her hand. She’s done this many times---many times …
Nobody even knew where it came from, this food, she says ---but it was accepted gladly. The food was quick and easy, quite reasonable ---but only in price? She’s dressed eloquently, perhaps even a little provocatively. She continues teaching, doing her thing …Eventually at every grocery store if you weren’t shopping specifically for these foodstuffs, your shopping-cart, as you walked through every aisle, remained empty.
And then, she says …The grocery stores cut back their hours …Because they could, they could do whatever they pleased. She tried her best to look …stupefied. She talks louder now: You ate what you were given ---at a reasonable price!
She protects her dress as she sits down in a lush garden, under an arbor, with jasmine hanging-on. She has her students sit down as well. She motions them to make a circle around her. She takes a breath, and continues …The artists in the kitchen serving good healthy food to smiling faces took a slow fade to black. They were forced-out! She says, and shakes her wavy brown hair.
Her students are all men, who don’t know what that means, to be a man, which is her job to teach them, she continues … They were no longer cared for, these artists of the kitchen, she pauses ---no longer cared for; “Artists not cared for!”-She almost screams.
She sits upright to further punctuate that, and continues …those artists, she says, they quickly turned to the ghosts you fearfully pass on your city streets. The restaurants boarded up their doors windows and cancelled their leases. She stands up and adjusts her dress. She sits back down …
It seemed, at least back then, she says, the eaters of this strange gray ‘foodstuffs’ were …pulled away from each other. How horrible is that?-she says, and then she gets specific …Gross domestic product dropped by unprecedented percentage points. Energy output flat-lined. I mean absolutely, absolutely nothing was going on. It spread, eventually, EVERYWHERE! It’s not clean and quiet like in this garden. She continues, teaching …
You see, she says, the human species was losing, as the foodstuff crept into their D.N.A! The people were constantly hungry, with a Tub of Goo as a substitute for a belly, she laughed, changing the mood, and her students laughed too, she continues with a slight laugh in her voice, relaxing everybody …The people were tired and hungry as they lengthened their belts? Can you believe that, she says …Could it be possible to be overfed, slightly portly and malnourished?
Genetically, she says, these foodstuffs traveled deep into the molecular level of all human-kind, and the result, she says, the human species stopped caring, they stopped making love! She punctuates this particular fact. They stopped loving, she says, as she looks at her students with her head turned at a certain angle … she pauses longer, and moves closer …They had no libido!
The thought of intimacy was too much, disgusting, and still is today, she says. Why is that? She asks her question? Don’t you guys know it’s okay? She stops her class with that thought. She looks into every eye, of each and every student, and then she continues …The human species was in jeopardy of dying back then, and still is today. No one loved, she says, as finally her students, again, all men, finally take notice of her.
Her students are being taught how to be men, her goal, and they finally sit up. She continues …There were no more seats available at the lover’s table. You see, all the bars shut their doors. It all came down so hard, but almost unnoticed ---down with a whimper, she says.
The men form an anxious circle around her, moving closer. One student seems fascinated with her hair. She shakes her hair and laughs …
The student fascinated with her hair asks a question, she says ---Love!!-With two exclamations. The circle is now very close to her. But most just stare. Another student is also fascinated by her soft brown hair. She takes off her dress and stands up. She’s naked …
She holds her hands out ---is this so atrocious to your eyes? Huh?-she asks. She sits back down and laughs. She lies down and breaths in and out. Her breasts rise and collapse as she breaths. But then …her students, again all men, MAN-up, and begin exploring ---a woman.
Seven hours later: Class dismissed ...she says with a tigress moan!
The End
Susan, a teacher, now centuries later, tells her students, Her-Story, of the events where love, in every sense, completely unraveled …
She continues with a piece of chalk in her hand. She’s done this many times---many times …
Nobody even knew where it came from, this food, she says ---but it was accepted gladly. The food was quick and easy, quite reasonable ---but only in price? She’s dressed eloquently, perhaps even a little provocatively. She continues teaching, doing her thing …Eventually at every grocery store if you weren’t shopping specifically for these foodstuffs, your shopping-cart, as you walked through every aisle, remained empty.
And then, she says …The grocery stores cut back their hours …Because they could, they could do whatever they pleased. She tried her best to look …stupefied. She talks louder now: You ate what you were given ---at a reasonable price!
She protects her dress as she sits down in a lush garden, under an arbor, with jasmine hanging-on. She has her students sit down as well. She motions them to make a circle around her. She takes a breath, and continues …The artists in the kitchen serving good healthy food to smiling faces took a slow fade to black. They were forced-out! She says, and shakes her wavy brown hair.
Her students are all men, who don’t know what that means, to be a man, which is her job to teach them, she continues … They were no longer cared for, these artists of the kitchen, she pauses ---no longer cared for; “Artists not cared for!”-She almost screams.
She sits upright to further punctuate that, and continues …those artists, she says, they quickly turned to the ghosts you fearfully pass on your city streets. The restaurants boarded up their doors windows and cancelled their leases. She stands up and adjusts her dress. She sits back down …
It seemed, at least back then, she says, the eaters of this strange gray ‘foodstuffs’ were …pulled away from each other. How horrible is that?-she says, and then she gets specific …Gross domestic product dropped by unprecedented percentage points. Energy output flat-lined. I mean absolutely, absolutely nothing was going on. It spread, eventually, EVERYWHERE! It’s not clean and quiet like in this garden. She continues, teaching …
You see, she says, the human species was losing, as the foodstuff crept into their D.N.A! The people were constantly hungry, with a Tub of Goo as a substitute for a belly, she laughed, changing the mood, and her students laughed too, she continues with a slight laugh in her voice, relaxing everybody …The people were tired and hungry as they lengthened their belts? Can you believe that, she says …Could it be possible to be overfed, slightly portly and malnourished?
Genetically, she says, these foodstuffs traveled deep into the molecular level of all human-kind, and the result, she says, the human species stopped caring, they stopped making love! She punctuates this particular fact. They stopped loving, she says, as she looks at her students with her head turned at a certain angle … she pauses longer, and moves closer …They had no libido!
The thought of intimacy was too much, disgusting, and still is today, she says. Why is that? She asks her question? Don’t you guys know it’s okay? She stops her class with that thought. She looks into every eye, of each and every student, and then she continues …The human species was in jeopardy of dying back then, and still is today. No one loved, she says, as finally her students, again, all men, finally take notice of her.
Her students are being taught how to be men, her goal, and they finally sit up. She continues …There were no more seats available at the lover’s table. You see, all the bars shut their doors. It all came down so hard, but almost unnoticed ---down with a whimper, she says.
The men form an anxious circle around her, moving closer. One student seems fascinated with her hair. She shakes her hair and laughs …
The student fascinated with her hair asks a question, she says ---Love!!-With two exclamations. The circle is now very close to her. But most just stare. Another student is also fascinated by her soft brown hair. She takes off her dress and stands up. She’s naked …
She holds her hands out ---is this so atrocious to your eyes? Huh?-she asks. She sits back down and laughs. She lies down and breaths in and out. Her breasts rise and collapse as she breaths. But then …her students, again all men, MAN-up, and begin exploring ---a woman.
Seven hours later: Class dismissed ...she says with a tigress moan!
The End
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Rocks
It was amazing. He was. People were very curious. He could tell you everything about rocks; where, when, and how the power from the earth’s yawns threw millions of tons of rocks here and there, the elements of this and that, all the properties, all the minerals that make up a single rock, and also, millions of rocks. The scars on the rocks, especially, he seemed most fascinated with. This gave him information about the rock’s life. From this information he could tell whether or not the rock was having a happy life? Obviously he had travelled deep into the molecular world. He was communicating with ghosts and happenings long forgotten. But still: he wondered, how much deeper ---can I go? You see, he wasn’t sure of something ---Why?
He sat, wondering?-swiveling in his chair. Time passed, everything continued as normal, until the sun changed its angle and spotlighted a whiskey bottle. The whiskey bottle was ‘touched’, his thoughts. He sat hypnotized with the view; it was a shooting star, a hero in a novel, or, a gateway to his dreams, perhaps an answer to ---How much deeper can I go?! How much! He stood up and zigzagged towards the whiskey bottle.
He knew it was dangerous, mixing booze with a mad-scientists brain, but, slowly, he convinced himself ---- he didn’t give a f#*@k! After his first step he stumbled and then fell towards the sun-kissed, sparkling amber-colored booze bottle, his thoughts about the bottle. He audaciously poured himself a double, and quickly, after several sips, he knew all judgment would soon fly far far away? He kept drinking, and then drank straight out of the bottle, to eventually be swinging the bottle wildly.
He slammed the empty bottle next to his chemistry kit, with his mad-scientist, now drunk laugh. He grabbed a beaker of rock dust and a test tube filled to the brim with something very molecular?-And slammed it! He drank it all in one breath. It was chugged! He slowly sat down. He grabbed one leg and crossed it over the other. He looked at the clock …He quickly became impatient …He ran to his room and rifled through his closet, only to find his ---‘special-stuff’ ---molecular this and rock dust from deep in the earth’s belly, very special stuff!
Now so equipped with double the amount of molecular stuff used earlier, he mixed and blended this with the ‘very special stuff’, and chugged the now-accelerator to …somewhere else? ---he did this in a single breath!?-Once again. Now his impatience waned completely and he was drifting …
He was alive, he was sure, yes, very alive, and then he was stone cold dead, and then, alive, very alive, as his D.N.A. mixed with the millenniums. He would say later it was the ---‘special stuff’ that finally forced him …over.
He was very alive, and this time, also, awake. Everything spread out below him. He was three hundred feet tall. His legs are strong. His arms could easily fight through hurricane winds. A huge bird’s nest nestles on his shoulder. The chicks are hungry. Their cries are deafening. Now he was a bird. He barely puts on the brakes, free-falling thousands of feet. Dinner might be served on time …
But now he sees himself come at himself. He’s the prey. At him, the ‘bird of prey’ makes its approach …it ducks down to move through the gravity faster …She swans dives down closer. She needs to get a better look.
The prey is terrified. He’s running in the wrong direction. The right direction changes by the moment; a move to the right to the left, a 90 degree turn, a this, a that, his blood can be felt scorching through his veins. He finds protection, a hole in the earth. He’s safe.
Now he’s a single blade of grass. He reaches his arms up as high as he can. He pushes down with his feet while pulling himself up ---and has never felt the sun feel so good on his face. But suddenly something is stopping him. A man has unraveled a towel to lie on, on top of that single blade of grass plus more grass.
Now …He ducks his head as he leaves his shed. He’s inspired as he picks up his easel, paint brush and paint. He walks a mile just too be right where that tree has the wind race up the mountain, with the birds cutting across the horizon.
He could be this, he could be that, in this century, in this millennium, in love with this historic woman, or this historic man, it didn’t matter, Because ---All he wants to do is sit right there and watch the tall trees be refreshed by the wind, and the birds fly, as he ‘let’s everything go’ ---“Sigh!”
The End
He sat, wondering?-swiveling in his chair. Time passed, everything continued as normal, until the sun changed its angle and spotlighted a whiskey bottle. The whiskey bottle was ‘touched’, his thoughts. He sat hypnotized with the view; it was a shooting star, a hero in a novel, or, a gateway to his dreams, perhaps an answer to ---How much deeper can I go?! How much! He stood up and zigzagged towards the whiskey bottle.
He knew it was dangerous, mixing booze with a mad-scientists brain, but, slowly, he convinced himself ---- he didn’t give a f#*@k! After his first step he stumbled and then fell towards the sun-kissed, sparkling amber-colored booze bottle, his thoughts about the bottle. He audaciously poured himself a double, and quickly, after several sips, he knew all judgment would soon fly far far away? He kept drinking, and then drank straight out of the bottle, to eventually be swinging the bottle wildly.
He slammed the empty bottle next to his chemistry kit, with his mad-scientist, now drunk laugh. He grabbed a beaker of rock dust and a test tube filled to the brim with something very molecular?-And slammed it! He drank it all in one breath. It was chugged! He slowly sat down. He grabbed one leg and crossed it over the other. He looked at the clock …He quickly became impatient …He ran to his room and rifled through his closet, only to find his ---‘special-stuff’ ---molecular this and rock dust from deep in the earth’s belly, very special stuff!
Now so equipped with double the amount of molecular stuff used earlier, he mixed and blended this with the ‘very special stuff’, and chugged the now-accelerator to …somewhere else? ---he did this in a single breath!?-Once again. Now his impatience waned completely and he was drifting …
He was alive, he was sure, yes, very alive, and then he was stone cold dead, and then, alive, very alive, as his D.N.A. mixed with the millenniums. He would say later it was the ---‘special stuff’ that finally forced him …over.
He was very alive, and this time, also, awake. Everything spread out below him. He was three hundred feet tall. His legs are strong. His arms could easily fight through hurricane winds. A huge bird’s nest nestles on his shoulder. The chicks are hungry. Their cries are deafening. Now he was a bird. He barely puts on the brakes, free-falling thousands of feet. Dinner might be served on time …
But now he sees himself come at himself. He’s the prey. At him, the ‘bird of prey’ makes its approach …it ducks down to move through the gravity faster …She swans dives down closer. She needs to get a better look.
The prey is terrified. He’s running in the wrong direction. The right direction changes by the moment; a move to the right to the left, a 90 degree turn, a this, a that, his blood can be felt scorching through his veins. He finds protection, a hole in the earth. He’s safe.
Now he’s a single blade of grass. He reaches his arms up as high as he can. He pushes down with his feet while pulling himself up ---and has never felt the sun feel so good on his face. But suddenly something is stopping him. A man has unraveled a towel to lie on, on top of that single blade of grass plus more grass.
Now …He ducks his head as he leaves his shed. He’s inspired as he picks up his easel, paint brush and paint. He walks a mile just too be right where that tree has the wind race up the mountain, with the birds cutting across the horizon.
He could be this, he could be that, in this century, in this millennium, in love with this historic woman, or this historic man, it didn’t matter, Because ---All he wants to do is sit right there and watch the tall trees be refreshed by the wind, and the birds fly, as he ‘let’s everything go’ ---“Sigh!”
The End
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
In Search of Sunsets
…It was in their college herb class where their eyes first caught each other’s stare. Then the smiles came with a lot of blushing. Now it was a friend to go to lunch with ---now it was a time to hold hands on their way to lunch ---now it was time to sneak a kiss, a bunch of kisses ---now they were in love …
They saw it all, just enough for them, on the walks they took together. After herb classes, after the identification of millions of plants, millions of herbs, photosynthesis, sugar, a lot of energy, millions of everything that was fueled solely through solar power, one day as they were walking ---they stopped: A sunset sat on a tree at noon, in a particlar city, in our world ---near all of us.
It all started from the ground up; in the dirt beneath all our feet. It was a tree twisting the sun’s now marvelous delusions all by itself. You could see the roots below were searching to make sure that the tree, where it was visible, had the strength to hold that sunset for ---three months straight, a season: And to provide a sunset at any time of the day! This discovery was huge. It was new, novel even, I mean, a sunset at any time of the day?
They quickly had to find a place to make love. But …instead, they started to laugh. They looked across the landscape and saw millions and a million more sunsets and, then, they slowly began to make love ---only to make love really really really fast, just to slow it all down again, he had to take a moment, those lips, he thought, just have to be kissed.
The End
They saw it all, just enough for them, on the walks they took together. After herb classes, after the identification of millions of plants, millions of herbs, photosynthesis, sugar, a lot of energy, millions of everything that was fueled solely through solar power, one day as they were walking ---they stopped: A sunset sat on a tree at noon, in a particlar city, in our world ---near all of us.
It all started from the ground up; in the dirt beneath all our feet. It was a tree twisting the sun’s now marvelous delusions all by itself. You could see the roots below were searching to make sure that the tree, where it was visible, had the strength to hold that sunset for ---three months straight, a season: And to provide a sunset at any time of the day! This discovery was huge. It was new, novel even, I mean, a sunset at any time of the day?
They quickly had to find a place to make love. But …instead, they started to laugh. They looked across the landscape and saw millions and a million more sunsets and, then, they slowly began to make love ---only to make love really really really fast, just to slow it all down again, he had to take a moment, those lips, he thought, just have to be kissed.
The End
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