Tuesday, September 8, 2009

March of the Ego

I’d already walked past her three times today. Well six, but I’m pretty sure she looked at me around the third time I think.
You know, the look.
Time to approach. Lurching forward I knocked her glass over the table and collected her friend with my elbow on the way through.
I smiled politely, I could tell she was surprised by my approach.
I noticed my fly was undone.
I greeted her with my name, and asked for hers. I could tell by the way she shrank back in her chair that she was shy. I knew I could use this to my advantage.
I noticed her friend having an intense discussion with a waiter. He hurriedly reached for a phone. Probably to reprimand the staff for rudely not making a bee line to place an extra setting and chair for me.
I became aware of the girl talking again, I noticed she was in tears, she asked me to go away.
I knew I’d done fine.

Kind Regards,


Sunday, September 6, 2009

The Food Hall Prophet

The Food Hall Prophet.

One day I hope that I might earn enough money to be able to buy a mail order bride. For now I can only afford to be one.
Lonely at the top hey? Must be better than being overcrowded like the rest of us down here at the bottom.
It isn’t hard to understand your absurdist philosophy. Stumbling, aimless, hands behind your back. Belly swollen and pointing the direction to go. Oh yes the food hall prophet and his thirty nine thieves. Only a dollar for a bag of pre fabricated grape seeds.

Kind Regards,

H.W Bones

Friday, September 4, 2009

This is Your Operator

This is your operator.

You have a great relationship with my answering machine, it never talks back or tells you to stop calling. Conversations short though.
No one makes threats when you’re down on your knees, screaming at the telephone for someone to answer, just to give some warmth to make it feel like you’re actually coming home.
Doesn’t change the fact that you are in a cold empty room..... lookout you’ve got your arms out of your jacket now haven’t you? Aren’t you clever. Your right Bob, she looks much more relaxed with the top down.
Better keep the hair up though, remember what happened last time. Who would’ve guessed that the screams would be so loud! Ah shit, you’re spilling it everywhere. Calm down it’s just some water and a couple of pills. You’re right Roger, she’s always like this before...well you know.

Kind Regards,


Lonely Spring Evenings Thinking of You.

Lonesome Spring Evenings, thinking of you.

What will you do when all your friends are enemies and your lover can no longer fit her ankles behind her ears? But she was attractive once wasn’t she? Sure only in that never going to escape the slums way, but attractive all the same.

How did you get that splinter in your lip? You were perfect, unadorned, completely confused. A perfect little muse. I never was one for sculpting though. The years can’t account for that splinter in your lip. Nor the rails on your arms, nor the indents in your legs, or the holes beneath your toenails.

It wasn’t meant to be easy.

Was it something I said that led us to this broken down vehicle? We stripped the wheels, ate the ball bearings and grease as if it was breakfast cereal. The radiator fluids thins it to a pleasant consistency, and a dash of petrol gives it that extra kick.

I can think of all the things we used to do, stripped naked covered in grease and using my balls for bearings. Under that dying sun the only thing we needed radiator fluid for was to strip the nail polish off your fingernails.

That cut running down your wrist seems to be healing slowly. At least the alcohol you imbibe will keep the wound clean. My blackened ear just gets worse though. Your teeth marks still bring an earthy sap to the wounds. I open them early every morning, surely there is any easier way to keep you out of the shower.

The Doctor told me my new teeth should be ready in a week or so, but only if I stop dinking to ease the discomfort. The wine makes my gums swell so the dentures never sit in place. I told him I stopped drinking. He almost believed me. The wine stains had faded from my lips, but the whiskey on my breath was a dead giveaway, he said.

It’s not too late you know...

How would I know Doc? I can’t tell the future, read tea leaves or cards. I’m going to keep on going, keep on running on empty. Toothless, wine stained, naked and greased up using my balls for bearings and radiator fluid to work on my tan.

Lets see how much further i get down that road.

Kind Regards,