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