buses

 buses


by jules delorme




the boy shakes his trembling fist at the man as he passes.
-you don't know me. the boy howls. -you got no idea who i am.
the man stops, shivering cold on a hot summer day.
the boy stands in the middle of the street. cars and buses swerve around him.
-my temple. the man says – my temple is beyond repair.
-ah. the boy says.
-ah. the man says.
-i killed my father. the boy says -unless he ducked. maybe he ducked.
-my spirit is compost. my soul is feces. the man says -even the rats won't eat it.
-i ate dinner not breakfast. i can’t turn off the lights.
-my mind has been consumed by absence. my sanity has been shredded by abstinence.
-ah. the boy says.
-ah. the man says.
they stand there. they look at each other for awhile.
neither one of them likes what they don't see.
-elephants make their babies eat feces. the man says -it strengthens their immunity.
-diplomats get lots of immunity. the boy says.
they laugh.
they almost laugh.
-two. The boy says
-too. the man says.
-a bus almost killed me once. almost ran me right over. the sky almost fell right on top of me. the boy says.
-maybe the bus had scabies. the man says. –or syphilis. perhaps the sky has syphilis.
-kings get syphilis. princes too. they fuck hookers and then they get syphilis.
-jack the ripper had syphilis.
-donald trump’s got syphilis. that’s why he’s crazy.
-his mother made him eat feces.
they look at each other.
they do not laugh. they do not pray.
not yet. not just yet.
-it's rigged. the whole thing’s rigged. like hopscotch. like dancing with the stars. the boy says.
-exactly. the man says. –that is exactly right.
-none of it’s real. it’s all made up.
-yes. the man says. –it is exactly not real.
-gotta go back and witness it.
-that is precisely the truth.
-chalk lines. dead body chalk lines.
-it’s all about the balance. the man says. –if you fall down even once the syphilis will kill you. the bus will run you over.
they stand there. the man on the street corner. the boy in the street.
they wait.
middle of the night. neither one of them ever sleeps.
neither one of them is ever dry.
-there. the man says –there is an illusion. there is no there. here. only here. but for there there is no here except the here that will move to be there.
-fuck. the boy says.
-here doesn't move. here is always here no matter where you are. here can only become there when you arrive at another here.
-fuck that. the boy says.
-yes. the man says. –fuck that.
-shit. the boy says. -cunt
-yes. the man says –cunt.
-crap.
-feces.
-filthy stinking shit.
-defecance.
-cunt dripping cockcheese pussygrabbing assfilth.
-solid waste excrescence.
-big giant elephant turds.
-yes. we are all on a diet of giant elephant turds.
-down the toilet. down the fucking creek.
-without a paddle.
-without a or.
-ah.
-ah.
they stand there.
they listen.
but not really.
the man stares up at the sky.
the boy tries to see his balls through his filthy jeans.
a bus screams by. the driver leans on the horn.
-some days. some days everything is broken. the man says over the racket -there's not enough glue in the whole wide world to put it all back together.
-my balls slide up into my stomach sometimes. the boy says -sometimes i'm afraid they won't come back down.
-a man can go away, but he can't disappear. he can never completely disappear. even if he dies, even if no one remembers him, he can't just disappear.
-i think sometimes if someone punches me in the stomach my testicles will explode. sometimes i think the acids in my stomach is gonna eat my nuts and one day i'm just going to shit them out
-there’s always a trace. the man says. –there’s always some kind of trace.
-chalk lines. the boy says.
they stand there.
the wind is busy being somewhere else.
-ah. the man says.
-ah. the boy says.
they turn and they walk away.
the boy and the man in completely opposite directions.
but the world is round.
sort of.
almost.
mostly.
if they keep walking for a very long time perhaps they'll meet again.
it’s possible.
unless they drown.
there’s more water than there is earth.
unless one of them gets hit by a bus.
buses everywhere.
keeping you from getting to wherever it is you might think that you’re going.
buses everywhere.


https://www.facebook.com/delormewriting

#writing #writer #writers #poetry #poem #poems #poet #JulesDelorme #JulesFDelorme #delormewriting #ScarboroughWritersFightClub #buses #native #indigenous #indigenousstory #indegenousstories #indigenousstorytelling #weirdstories #darkandweird #jacktheripper #ripper #whitechapelmurders


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

faller Chapter 5 Dianne

faller - the whole thing so far...

faller Chapter 7 Suckers