Tag Archives: fight

“Hey Little Birdy, come and make an old man happy.” (Dweller Chapter 14)

“Hey little birdy, come and make an old man happy. Remember that? I’ll bet you do.” I was glad that finally I could unleash that saying so that maybe, just maybe, it’ll finally stop playing back like a broken record inside of a broken person. It wasn’t going to go away on its own. I had realized that by now. I needed to stop hearing it. I would do anything to stop hearing it.
Father chuckled dryly. “I didn’t think that you would remember. It was just the one time, well, that you saw anyways. How the Hell…”
“I didn’t have to remember. I still hear it. At first it drove me nuts because I didn’t know what it was or what it meant. I tried to shut it out but it just wouldn’t leave me alone and now I know why. It took me a long time to piece it together amidst everything else that was happening around me but I finally came around and understood what it was and you know what that is?”
“What?” Father was studying his fingernails, feigning disinterest.
“The final straw. That’s when everything inside of me decided to shut down because of what I saw that one day. I didn’t know it then. Fuck, I didn’t know it until now but yeah, that’s what did it. It wasn’t enough to lose my mother and to have a father that beat me senselessly when he wasn’t playing with the shadows in the cellar. It wasn’t enough that everyone in the fucking world despised me. But that did it. I felt that you should know that.”
Father looked at me nervously then went back to tending his nails. “Hmph.”
“Funny thing,” I continued, stepping closer to him, “that now that I can remember her back then it didn’t seem like she had any pain, that she suffered in any way. She hid it well, she didn’t want me to know what was really going on but you should see her now. And what just fucking kills me is that she could have been an angel, you know…right? You may not think about it or even remember but she could have been, oh yeah, just like mother. But no…not now…not after you had trashed her fucking soul. She was a flower of a girl and you peeled all of her away, pedal by pedal. And now she sleeps with the fucking devil.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, huh?” Father asked, arms spread. “I gave you answers. I gave you everything. What’s done is done. It’s gone. Forget about it.”
I stepped even closer, enough to make him start to step back. “She still follows me, comes to me. You probably already knew that always hiding in the bushes watching me maybe watching her too. But she is not the same girl and I am not the same guy and I don’t need to think about it to know that it was all because of you and it was that part of me that knew this day would come that haunted me by replaying that one time again and again.”
Father sighed. “The day that….that…”
“AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!” I shouted as I moved forward, forcing my father back again down the walkway. He looked behind him to make sure that he still had space to move back. “Yes, that must have been the final straw. That’s when the wall came up, just like in the cellar, the black wall in my mind. And now there is only one thing that will make it go away.”
“You already know everything.”
“I need to hear it from you, from your voice, face to face, right now. You owe it to her. You owe it to me. For all the things that you have done, I don’t think that it’s asking for much at all. I need you to tell me that you’re fucking sorry.”

After The Fight

After the fight
I walked calmly down the stairs
towards the front door
with table legs
breaking on my back.

My brother was in the kitchen
making coffee
“Good morning!” I said as I dodged a stool.
“She’s real pissed. I’ll explain later. I’m off to work.”

My brother lifted his cup
shrugged
and returned to the window.

A lady
across the playground
was pushing a stroller
both were bundled up
so that you couldn’t see anything
but eyes.

It was a brutal winter.

At The Bottom of a Snake-pit Fending Off a Dragon

I was in an apartment building
I still have bad dreams about
at the west end of Cambridge
on the tail-end of being high for two days
but I wasn’t even sure on what.

People liked me so they always gave me things
and when I’m drunk I’ll drop whatever
like a champ
because I’m the Pacman
of human garbage receptacles.

For some bizarre reason I sat in a chair
in the middle of the living room
facing the front door
with some broad in my lap.

Seen her around but
never really got her name
just knew that she was trouble and
wondered if she thought the same of me.

Her ass felt good there.
There was enough of it to really make an impression.
I squeezed her breast and kissed her neck.
I didn’t give a fuck who was watching.

The front door opened and some
bald scary motherfucker
drunk out of his mind barged in.

From word on the street
he was bad-ass crazy and addicted to aerosol cans
and as he smashed his half-full beer
against the wall
got on his knees
raised his scarred arms and screamed
something in Japanese
-I believed it.

In fact,
I believed that this man could
start a fight
in an empty house.

The host
a grizzly chain-smoking native
in an torn Iron Maiden shirt
and Hello-Kitty sunglasses
calmly strolled over and started
feeding him uppercuts
like they were half-price at Walmart.

This was all happening right in front of me
so I was about to get up when the girl
wiggled around in excitement.

Sick bitch. I got hard.
I stayed.

Wham!
They were on the floor to the left of us

Wham! Wham!
Now to the right.

How they avoided hitting my chair
and us hitting the floor
to involuntarily join them in this orgy of violence
was an absolute miracle of God
(there is no God here).

Despite all the action
I started to close my eyes
wondering if I would wake up in Mexico
buried in a crate of oranges
when her cool, calm, soft, compelling
voice whispered into my ear
“You’re exhausted, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.”
I couldn’t talk. I merely nodded.

Wham! Wham! Wham!
Yeah, that shit was still going on.

She got me on the mattress and undressed me
with the proficiency of a
hospital emergency ward
climbed on top of me and started kissing me
or more like trying to stab my tongue to death
with hers.

Her breath was terrible.
Did she ever fucking brush those things?

She seemed so nice, so cool and collective
up until now but this was what it was like
in the snake pit where everyone was vicious
if you gave them time or opportunity.

She turned beast…Dragon!
I felt trapped beneath her fire.
I didn’t want this. Maybe tomorrow.
Probably never.
She was started to make me sick.
Her smell, her weight on me, her tongue, her raspy laugh
-all of it

“Baby, no. I don’t think I can do this. I feel like
my soul is dying. There’s lots of gusto in the other room.
Go find one of them.”

“Fuck that! You’re the prettiest thing here. If you
don’t like it then just shut the fuck up and lie there.”

This was abuse. I was sure of it
because it wasn’t the first time
and I just wanted to turn her over
pin her down, smile and say,

‘So what if I said that to you, huh?
What if I fucking did this to you?’

“Christ, okay.” I replied sheepishly instead.
I was weak as a kitten and this girl
was going to get what she wanted
whether I liked it or not
because at the bottom of the snake pit
it was hard to push off
what slithered all over top of you
and sometimes you couldn’t
see the dragon
until the clothes came off.

So I closed my eyes
as she began to rock
back and forth

back and forth

back and…

Drunk Kid at the Bar

I was leaning against the bar
absently stirring my drink
when there was a tap on my shoulder:

“Hey, get the fuck out of my way. I need a beer.”

I decided to ignore it. Maybe it would go away.
But no, there were several taps on my shoulder now.

“Didn’t you fucking hear me? Move it! HEY BUDDY! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY! NOW! I SAID NOW!”

I sighed, stood up, turned fully around and looked down at this college kid
that appeared to be the source of the problem.
This boy
who looked like he enjoyed mom’s cooking
sleeping in on Saturdays with his thumb in his mouth
like an infant
and generally sauntering through life in his pyjamas
also looked like he would hurt himself a lot more
in the process of trying to hurt me.

I didn’t even say anything. I just looked at him. But I suppose it was enough
because he immediately changed his tune:
“Hey man, I’m really sorry. I’m really fucked up right now. Sorry, man, sorry.
I’m really fucked up.”
He kept repeating it and patting me on the shoulder
and it was pissing me off more than his initial bravado
until his friends dragged him away.

He smiled and gave me the thumbs up
like that strange, one-sided altercation
had somehow made us friends.

I don’t know if he was trying to impress his friends or his girl
if he was really that fucked up or was just an asshole.
Most likely a fine mixture of all of that.
What I do know is that he’s lucky he didn’t try that
on my good friend standing beside me
because he would have fucking killed him.

I returned to the bar and to absently stirring my drink.

Fucking kids. I thought.

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