Monday, December 7, 2009

Olive and Sea Nathan IV

They emerge from the oasis of death. The dust springs up in clouds underneath their work boots. "Your name is love and evil," says Sea Nathan. "If you mix up the letters," Olive says. "Yes," says Sea Nathan, "but your love is evil too." "There ain't no evil in love," Olive says, "unless you count lovin' the dead bodies." "It's not the bodies that're evil, and it's not countin' 'em that's bad, but when you -- " "You'll leave it at that," Olive says. She begins to dress. She steps into her thick brown pants. "I ain't gonna leave nothin' at that. Your love for these dead people is gonna make us get stuck in the quicksand they've become. One day we'll be walkin' over faces, and you'll be stoppin' to kiss one of 'em for steppin' on its nose. You're the snake that's done eaten its tail." "There ain't nothin' wrong with pity for the dead," Olive says. She hooks her bra and slips her gnarled wool sweater over her head. "And," Olive continues, "my name's got 'live' in it. I'm gonna live." "Ain't but both of us gonna live or both of us gonna die," Sea Nathan says. "Besides, it ain't pity what you got." Olive takes down her hair and picks bugs from her scalp, pinching them between her fingers before she throws them on the earth. "Buggers," Olive says. "We're in this together. We made vows not to -- " "I was talkin' 'bout the nits," Olive says. "Oh," says Sea Nathan. They begin to walk again, slowly and with great weariness. "You has better take the sack," says Olive, "'cause I ain't got the strength to carry it on my own." Yes'm," says Sea Nathan. "Still got some of them apples in here?" "They's dried like prunes now," Olive says, "and you can chew 'em like gum."

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Olive and Sea Nathan III

Sea Nathan and Olive undress. They take off everything except their shoes and socks. The muddy ground beneath them swarms with maggots; it's a graveyard of massacred bodies. A dead face pushes up against the earth, the nose protruding, the eyes open, vacant, eyeballs intact. The mist engulfs Olive and Sea Nathan. They can't see the face. Olive steps on it. "Oh, my," she says, "I think that's somebody." "What?" asks Sea Nathan. "I think I stepped on somebody." "Shit!" says Sea Nathan, "We're on a sea of corpses. Get out of here." "I think I stepped on somebody else," Olive says. "Just hurry," says Sea Nathan. "I'm stepping on people left and right," Olive says. She grabs their clothes from atop a large stone. "There's somebody might have died with a drink in his hand," Sea Nathan says. He reaches down and picks up a flask. "Nah," Sea Nathan says, "empty." "Don't be picking up a dead man's things," Olive says. She grabs the flask and tosses it away from them. It lands on stone where their clothes were, clanks against its surface, and slips back into the mud. "Shit!" says Sea Nathan, "Give me my pants." Olive hands him his thick brown trousers. "Put them on then," Olive says, "once we're through the corpses. Otherwise, you'll get the stench on 'em for good." "Fuck, Olive, I don't care 'bout no stench," Sea Nathan says, "on my pants. Just don't want it stuck in my skin." "Suit yourself," Olive says. She continues through the mist naked. Sea Nathan slips on his pants. "This is what pants are for," Sea Nathan says, "nowadays. If they're offended by the smell of death at the shipyard, they can hose me down." "'Fore they kill ya'," Olive says. "Yes, if we're late," says Sea Nathan.

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Olive and Sea Nathan II

They crawl to the shipyard through the desert. By crawl, not crawl. Walking slowly, resigned to their fate, a singular fate. If they get to the shipyard on time, they get to work; if they are late, they get their heads lopped off. It makes but little difference to the two wanderers, home being nowhere, and nowhere being home. There is no one in the world, except for the shipyard workers, but Olive and Sea Nathan. How they managed to survive is anyone's guess. Perhaps they were part cockroach, finding the right nook or cranny with which to meld their thin, brown forms so that not a crack could be discerned, only a thin, dark line in what might have been a crevasse at one point in time. "Oh, my," says Olive, "a lone rattler." "A dead rattler," says Sea Nathan. "It's the only rattler we've seen in this here desert," Olive says. "Not the only dead rattler I've seen," Sea Nathan says, "ought to be more observant, you should." "Ought to pay more attention to the dead things is right," Olive says, "so that when I'm a dead thing I can see myself too." "You won't be seeing anything," Sea Nathan says, "It'll be like the cockroach position." Sea Nathan knows about himself. He wipes his hands on his thick brown trousers. "Ain't no point in pretending it'll be no different."

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Day of the Dead

Ain't nothin' scary 'bout dyin'. All these people, they, y'know, they, they want to believe in the afterlife, like they call it. Well, ain't nothin' to worry 'bout. There ain't no afterlife. I died, and there was nothin'. I don't even 'member it, it was so, uh, nothin'. My girl, yeah, she pried my mouth open. Then the vomit got out or I woulda' choked on it. Propped me up too, my girl. Sat me up on my ass is what she did. I woulda' choked that way as well, y'know. Ain't nothin' scary 'bout dyin', like I says before. I don't 'member nothin' 'cept nothin'. Next night she raped me, my girl. She liked to wear one of them strap-ons, y'know, a big one that was made to fit her. I tried to fight her offa' me, but she stuck herself right in. Jerked off then, she did, with the strap-on and all. Damn, I says to myself, she don't care nothin' 'bout me. Kicked her out the next day, I did. Laughed and laughed and laughed. I ain't shittin' ya' either. I was poor broke then. I got me a job at one of them brothels and somethin' bad happen made me pregnant. I couldn't pay for no 'bortion, so I made myself miscarry; yeah, I did. Won't tell ya' how though, just that I did it. But when that baby come outta' me, that little fetal thing, I flush it down the toilet real fast. But before it done come outta' me, I just, uh, wanted to jump, uh, outta' my apartment winda'. I woulda' fall real nice. I went on government assistance for a little while after that, and then I was a stripper again; couldn't handle no hookin'. Made me 'member that dead thing comin' outta' me. Shit, ain't every day for the dead?

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Friday, November 6, 2009

Eviction Notice

Dear Quick-Tips, Prick-Lips, Cunt-Licking Prick, and Cock-Sucking Dick,

As residents of the Local 1080, please be advised that our Resident Protection Plan will no longer be effective as of November 6, 2009. What this means is that your landlord is free to evict you, should he, she, or they so desire. The Freedom To Be A Cocksucker Act, or FTBACA, was rescinded by the Congress of Idiots. Please excuse the capitalization. The Idiots voted unanimously against the protections you once enjoyed. The Landlord Guild discussed the situation at great length at the Local 1080 General Assembly meeting. If you were not there, you should know that the Landlord Guild hired private investigators, who found out that you are prostitutes. They said that, unless you stop charging for sex, you will be evicted.

Best Wishes,
Alan Gunzer
Local 1080 President

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights, Reserved

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Law and Mr. Ricken

Mr. Ricken said to chicken you rubber-bodied goose pap, you could try once to jump fly run to see where it leads you, dunno ello the waves jumped high on our riff-raft. Water spelled over until cco the dde went under. Until mme and you we he said he, hey, Mr. Ricken, you want to jump along the way with us, you want to jump along the way. Ricken was a deep man his throat went down real far, then his gorge split three ways: one, down the esophagus; two, a trachea; and, three, a pipe down the folk band clapping singing crying for a second in between, oh jesus, oh jesus, baby jesus shrinking in the waves. Salt is not good for a warm-blooded man dde ccep loz. We drank the water, and it poisoned our ass. We saw no sun pushing into the window, not the light of the sun but the sun itself, colorless light if light had form without substance, the inverse of Ricken, the inverse of Ricken's deep gorge throat was the sun blooming from the darkness of a dream-filled night. Fish go here. More chants to jesus and a long pause, nothing being said, thought, looked at, only the slap slap waves on the rock sand shore. Mr. Ricken is a free man he lives without the law. His law is the law is gone. His wife had a daughter named Laura and for short her called her "Law." Law Ricken was a good girl and cute in every way. Her skin was whitish pink and a soft fine texture with eyes the color of green apples. She wore her hair in a ponytail and almost never spoke. She would say things like, "Please pass the pea pods," or, "Could you quit hocking my space," but other than that she was quiet and humble, not proud but strong in her bones and blood. Law Ricken didn't go to school. She stayed at home and was a free girl like her father was a free deep man. Law fell in love with Mr. Ricken ell may and he didn't love her right away. It took a year long time and Law was hungry. She drew pictures in her notebook and wrote "honger" on top of each one. Mr. Ricken was a stern man, firm but soft and loving, it took him a long time to take her in his arms. It hurt Mr. Ricken that Law had fallen in love with him. He said her love was like a siren's and even a free man with no law feared the drowning death. But Law didn't want to kill him, she wanted to make him immortal. Where was the mother of Law and wife of Mr. Ricken? She left and married a schoolmaster, a small but intense man who had a quickness in his eye that made some look away. But once Mrs. Ricken said Law should be free not churning rote phrases in a locked-in room. Not churning phrases in a chig chig romper rrun room nowhere learning to talk with the language. Law was tall once she shot up real fast, not full grown in a day but by the time she was 10 or 12 she was five foot ten, a giant girl but thin and supple so she seemed one two one with the air, not fighting resistance slicing herself in, coughing every now and then but otherwise chuckle laugh the stills smiling willing her arms above her head grabbing hher wrists with one big paw pushing her down against the bed with his weight heavy tree from the ground lifts his three-spout gorge pushing and gripping her long arms spreads her legs let him willing even the law was none is above the law there is none daddy Mr. Ricken pushing into her juicy tight wares sometime coming but other times licking her plump cunt until he feels her squirt out of her hole, not piss but juice and salty. She was a tasty slice of pie, moaning in his big warm hands. There was a chance he wasn't Law's father and the old Mrs. Ricken had Law by another man, since maybe Law didn't have a daddy at all and Mr. Ricken was a god. They didn't look one thing alike.

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Little Dog and Liver, or Allegory of a Limp-Dick Man

There was a little dog who loved fresh liver.
His owner put the bowl down in front of him.
But the dog could only lower his head and wag his tail,
never reaching the liver itself. His owner grew frustrated
because he had prepared the liver for nothing.
If he took the bowl away the dog would cry.
He put the liver out and left it.
Here comes the little dog, wagging his tail,
with a clump of liver stuck to his nose.

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Friday, August 7, 2009

Olive and Sea Nathan

Sea Nathan buttons his thick brown pants. He and Olive collect their belongings and shuffle down the road. They are clearly out of place, urchins removed from the sea. He turns to her and says, "I dreamed about the nymphs again, luring me." "They're luring you to death," she says, "if you know the story." "Ah, but it's so pleasant to die," he says, "no eating, shitting, fucking -- well, sometimes a fuck if there's a corpsefucker out there." "You're as good as dead anyhows," she says, "like when Granny was dying and saw you with all our dead relatives 'round her." "I ain't got but one time to say this … ain't got but one time … " and that was it from Sea Nathan. They walk and take turns holding their heavy sack. The sun burns up the clouds. It beats on their hatless heads so hard that it bores through their eyes and penetrates the ground they stare at, dust and rock. "We'll keep walking 'til the shipyard," Olive says, but Sea Nathan's silence continues unabated. Night falls. Their scorched faces turn towards each other. "Well, guess we can't keep going through the night," Olive says, "'cause we'll get fooled by the darkness, you know, and miss the road to the yard. We'll be later than ever. Yeah, good luck so far gettin' there early enough not to get our heads chopped … " They walk towards a tree with apples underneath it. (There isn't fruit on the tree, so Olive isn't sure from where the apples originated.) Olive says, "Eat me here some of this fruit," and picks up a shriveled apple. Sea Nathan lies down and sleeps. After a while Olive, worried he's dead, shakes his shoulder. "I'm not dead," he says and falls back asleep. He hears her ask him in a dim, faraway voice, "What's wrong with you?" He forces himself to sleep until the sun begins to heat him. "Okay," he says. They pick up on the road where they left off and fill the remaining space in their sack with the desiccated fruit.

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Thick Thighs

You've got thick thighs, and your brain is diseased.
Diseased, you say?
A twister, it is.
Ah, a whirlwind then.
More like a torrent of hate.
Well, I'd imagine one would need thick thighs in such a circumstance; sinewy ones reek of love.
Fuck your thighs.

Copyright, 2009, Jennifer Chesler, All Rights Reserved