Knock~Knock

I know you're there,
just on the other side,
rattlin' my chains
and tap~tap~tapping on my spirit...

Silly little ghosts,
phantom pains,
wayward boys...

You can't rock my world.

I wake up with lazy legs,
leftovers from dancing to the Black Eyed Peas....
with a new found smile,
courtesy of my latest tumble and another dip into the mayo jar and visit to The Man
with The Big Red Smile for a calling card.
I wake up to the cool hum of air conditioning still purring,
the filter, a cardboard mosaic I made myself,
to the sound of redbirds frolicking in
what used to be bouganvilla..
to the smell of yesterdays coffee,
run twice through,
and all the better because it's still brown...
and this...

an
irredescent butterfly trapped forever in my kitchen window...

Sometimes even

stray shots

in the night...

Are accidental pretties...

I have to live with it forever...

I hope you can....

Rikkity Tikkity Tink!

It was cold and our laughter billowed out in whispy cartoon clouds, mixing with the tart aroma of candied applies and mustard slathered pretzels. My fingers were almost frozen and I kept tap-tap-tapping my boots on the wooden steps trying to keep warm.

Half way up.

We laughed harder. More on purpose. More out of silly make believe fear.

The wooden track wobbled, shook, seemed to tilt in the air, as if the faintest breeze would topple the entire roller coaster over on it's side, and spill it into the boardwalk, a mangled erector set, glowing in the dark. The music stopped , or maybe it didn't, and up ahead of us, the white faces of instant ghosts climbed from their seats, teetering for just a moment to gain their strength, to breath again, and then the tentative laughter of those surviving this trip began again as they descended the other stairs. Free and Alive.

"Next" he shouted, gruffly arming Kimbies and I into the first seat, alcohol breath tucking us in. He started at the back.... one, two, three, twelve, thirteen, running the wooden track, slamming the safety arms down into lock, lock, lock....his dirty fingers barely grazed us, and the little train began to climb. We gave the arm a little wiggle. It bounced straight up. We slammed it down. It bounced again. We screamed. And screamed again. And went higher and higher in tiny rickety bursts of strength. We rounded the highest corner and snapped to the left. And began free falling. The two of us, elbows locked, parachuting. Choking. Huge fists on our necks, faceless fingers twined into our clothes, our hair, holding onto us by Angel's breath. We hit the bottom and slammed hard to the right, left, and I forget now, if we were shaking from the inside or the out, but I remember dying. Just before the next climb.

That was 25 years ago.

The first of many, many "never again"s.....

I woke up this morning with cotton candy in my hair. Two tattered ticket stubs stuffed in the back pocket of the crumpled jeans on the floor.

I woke up smiling.

You gotta love the fair......

Coloring the sky

I pushed the magic button, automatic ignition, and Cla-Plump! Bang! it shifted gears, lurched, and died. Like the lady stranded in the Winn Dixie parking lot, ice cream melting, beer getting warm, I tried it over and over and over again. Then I kicked it. Once for good luck. Swung my good booted foot around and kicked it twice for "try that"! Sometimes, it just takes a good wallop to get everything back in order.

Nothing.

She just sat there, too old, too cold, too dead to even groan. I felt bad for being a bully, and apologized. It was too late. On Wednesday, the neighbor and I will haul her, one heavy inch at a time to the curb. If she's lucky, a body snatcher will come in the night, and whisk her cumbersome remains off to be reincarnated into something grander....otherwise, she'll be laid to rest at the top of a mile high mountain of likened souls, teetering at the top, until she's buried under the next week's refuge.


Good-bye, sweet little dryer. Hello blue skies!