the shirt
At 10 am it was hot enough to fry an egg on a virgins
nipples and the pier was awash w/ a sea of them imprisoned
by black lace bras and tank tops that constricted tattoos
of snakes, sea lions, roses, petunias and pandas placed
seductively over the torsos young women. All decorations
stopped at the back and dove below the belts in the nether
world of the butt floss.
I was wondering if the diving back butt floss was a sign saying
take a number, or baby on board
in 10 years when I ran smack dab into a set of ripe
nipples piercing tips of a magenta flames being held by
the mountains of night. They took my breath away; Hell,
they nearly took an eye out. When I tore my eyes away from
the spectacle of the piercing magenta flames I found a lined
tanned face of an old friend.
Kit?
Beast! I though you were in Oaktown
I was I was until the old lady kicked me out.
She has filed for a divorce. I said as I fingered
the band cemented on my left hand.
I stared up into intense gray lenses. There was a heartbeat
of awkwardness before my welled tears broke my stare. She
pushed the glasses up on head and then her nails brushed
my ring as she grasped my hand.
I am so sorry.
Its ok. I mumbled into the ground
I looked into Kits cat green eyes and felt she was
falling into me, instead of what I wanted her to fall into,
my pants. She was going thru doors that had been bunged for
years and yet she was not intrusive, I was ready to have them
opened.
I couldnt stop her nor did I want to. The
need to have someone bear witness to what I was truly going
through was so keen that I couldnt hide nor stop
it. The person who so happened to be the observer was Kit
and she so happened to have a nice rack. Damn my luck.
No it isnt. Kits eye pried
mine from the ground.
What do you do when a nightmare turns into a horror
story?
Write.
Yeah. I laughed and glanced into her smile.
I got that from you. Do you?
Write? Didnt toward the end. Now there
is a flood.
Why dont you write it down.
Write what?
Whats eating you up?
I am getting a divorce, isnt that plain
enough?
No, that is not what is eating you up. Beast, I heard
you in enough in meetings and I knew that you thought you
had something special and or you wouldnt have busted
your butt to stay.
Yeah I did. I interrupted. .
And now there is nothing left. I mumbled.
Then why the pain? Because a part of me is being ripped out.
But its dead.
No, I dont believe that, I yelled.
A couple of beer soaked racers look at me then at Kit. She
smiled as she dragged me out of the racers sight.
Whats eating you up??
Shes a fucking cunt! I said to the
ground. By the time I spat out the last word I knew that Dumbo
had stepped on his ears. I looked up at Kit. Sorry, I m just mad.
Its O.K. this time. She said softly,
Whats eating you up?
There is nothing left to hang on to.
My world is gone.
There was nothing in the beginning.
What? I said as I stumbled.
It was plain that you two shouldnt have
been together. Then why in the Hell didnt somebody say
something?
Would have you listened?
No. Did you think it was suppose to be that hard?
No, but I was raised
..to lay in the bed once you made it. Kit
droned back. I have heard at least 10 times out of
your mouth in as many years. It is masochistic and very mid
western, but you are not answering my question, Whats
eating you up? What do you regret?
Nothings left. I miss her. I sobbed
Miss her, or what you had?
I dont know
Let me come back to the beginning. What is eating
you up Beast? Find it or it will kill you. I looked up into Kits eyes and saw an ardent resolve
so sincere that she was shuddering with its energy. My eyes
fell on her nipples as they made the magenta flames dance
alive. She caught me starring. I felt my face flush crimson.
Kit I need a break can I get you something?
No. no thank you. But what I do want from you is to
go find some quiet spot and write . Then find me and show me.
OK?
OK
I stared at Kits ass as she walked away. For a 50-year-old
broad she still had it, had it ways that I didnt need
and in ways that I needed more than wanted.
The magenta flames were still dancing in my head as I grabbed
a double shot of espresso and a table in the shade.
I had my
notebook and so I began to write. It flowed through me like
hot maple syrup out of the jar. I knew enough to keep at it
until it was done. It took 2 hours, 10 drafts and one more
double until I finally had it. I copied it down clean, tore
it out of my notebook and went to look for Kit.
I found her standing by herself watching the races. I came
up next to her and handed her this.
Self-flush
I have stumbled over and
scrambled and traced
and tied down and
researched and retrofitted
enough misplaced and
mauled and skinned
shiny copper wires
to last a man
a life
time.
Yet
still I go about making
my daily bread and
trying to forgive myself for
putting sweat and
thought and caring into
monkey- paws of
wires so that others may speak
instead of me. And
now
I feel the October air, even
in late August, and
my heart and
mind and soul regrets
the copper spaghetti I have
laid and
how I didnt seem to
connect to you and
if I did, some how I
didnt get an answer-back, and
this makes me feel like
the toilet I pee in
self
flushed.
Take
this as an apology for
not giving you what
is in me and
intern
not letting me
witness what is in
you.
and walked toward a lemonade stand.
I got two and walked
back to her. She was studying it as tears were seeping unto
her cheeks as I handed her a lemonade.
You son of a bitch. She whispered.
What did I do now?
You nailed it.
Thats what I do best. I said flippantly
Kit stripped her off glasses and stared sternly into my
eyes.
Listen Beast, you shine when your write so quit
deflecting it by being a pompous ass.
Yes Maam. I mumbled
What would it take for you to send this out?
Kit, I havent sent stuff out in years.
What would it take for you to send this out?
Kit it needs time to steep?
No it doesnt. Again, what would it take
for you to send it out?
Your shirt.
I thought she would tell me go to Hell, slap me in the face
or knee me in the balls but she took it off and handed it to
me without missing a beat. Underneath the shirt was a magenta
crochet bikini top holding those mountains in loving-kindness.
I looked at those mountains and drooled as Kit handed me
a business card and began to walk away.
I expect it to be in the mail by Friday. If you want
more than the shirt get it published. Call when it is.
She shouted over her shoulder.
I still havent called.
copy righted by M.R. Merris 2003