TO SLIP

Fragile old man

He lies sleeping but not still

On a narrow bed with wheels and motors

The sheet at his back cool and smooth

A vague shape beneath a cotton blanket

Thin but heavy pure white

I look down at him

Paper skin over bones of chalk

I am selfish

I want to wake him

Hear him speak and see him smile

But I do not

His chest rises and falls

Breaths short and shallow

That start with a twitch

A microscopic gasp

Puffed out past dry lips

An exhausted sigh

His hands twitch

With opiate dreams

A brow furrows then melts 

Now a tight-lipped grin

He's holding a small child

Or perhaps turning a screw

The release of a spring

Or a shudder from cold

A leap from a branch

Or stumbling on a ledge

I watch it pass by

But am unable to tell

Another breath

His lips scarcely move

A whisper answers a question

Asked only of him

Another breath

Fragile old man

Fish~

21 September 2014

CAREFUL WITH THAT AXE, ALVEERA

Gotta take a little time to set this one up...

Fifteen plus years ago, me and mine were in Wildie, Kentucky for a reunion of my Dad's people.  Everyone had gathered at Vincent Fish's place- beautiful day, big shelter set up in his front yard, shady, huge spread of good food...

After a couple hours, Vincent's daughter said she'd like to take everyone who wanted to go for a wagon ride over the family property.  She was familiar with some family history, as well as some other local things and would act as our "guide".  A number of us loaded up.   My cousin's husband drove the tractor and we set out.

At one point, we stopped up on a high ridge.  The stone chimney of a long since gone cabin stood lonely.  A hundred feet or so away, right  at the edge of the woods, were the barely noticeable ruins of another small log structure.  My cousin proceeded to share the story of a couple that had once lived in the cabin that Time had all but reclaimed, leavin' only this chimney, like a giant grave marker.

Cut to last summer:  I'm visitin' with an old friend at his folks' new place in Middletown, Kentucky.  My friend asked his mother if she'd fetch a particular guitar he wanted to show me.  As she walked up with the guitar, my friend joked as he reached for it, sayin' to her, "Careful with that axe, Alvira!"

That phrase instantly brought back the memory of the story I had heard years earlier.  

After about a year of messin' around, I wound up with what follows here.  Hope you enjoy it...  Timmy 

CAREFUL WITH THAT AXE, ALVEERA

Among the hills of poplar and pine

Kentucky- nineteen and three

There stood a tiny whitewashed church

As our Lord would have it be

There in that valley, lush and green 

Where runs the Path of Life

Tall and handsome Willie Monroe

Took fair Alveera for his wife

To a cabin small, on a rocky ridge

In a place both lonesome and wild

Willie did bring his precious bride

Where she'd bear him an imperfect child

Willie set out each day before the dawn

To provide his young family a home

He'd work the fields of burley and corn

And leave lovely Alveera alone

Careful with that axe, Alveera

Its trouble you might not know

In Spring, her days were plantin' and chores

With Eelie on her hip

He never spoke, he wouldn't walk

Just bruised her with his grip

Out past the smokehouse, in early Fall

With heart and fingers hurt

Alveera split the Winter's wood

While Eelie squealed and scratched in the dirt

Then Willie took to returnin' late

And set himself a liar

While Alveera lived with Eelie's screams

And stared into the fire

The days grew shorter, the nights grew long

The leaves commenced to fall

Alveera and Eelie would sit alone

And Willie might not come home at all

Careful with that axe, Alveera

Your slight frame might not manage its weight

As Willie rode home, one cold Fall day

In evenin's fadin' light

There on the ground, near Winter's wood

He saw that dreadful sight

Eelie's body, cold and wet

Bespoke a gruesome fate

While his head lay quiet in his mother's arms

As she crouched by the smokehouse gate

What made you do it, Alveera

What made you kill Little Eelie this way

She'd draw a breath, and "Trouble, trouble, trouble"

Was all that Alveera would say

Careful with that axe, Alveera

It may be sharper than you think

Fish~

NATIONAL PORK

Over the past few months, several stories have surfaced concernin' the proposed "openin' of Federal Land, much of it part of our National Parks System, to private  ventures involvin' the natural resources that may or may not happen to be located in these public, but currently protected, areas.  The goal?  To bolster the Fortunes of a Select Few, with little or no regard to the Consequences.  (Not unlike startin' a War based on Lies and Fabrications.)

 

Our National and State Parks are not there for Political Vultures to usurp, then auction off to the Highest Bidders.  They are controlled by Our Government, because that's who, like it or not, had the Collective Intelligence and Foresight to set these treasures aside for Future Generations of Americans to enjoy, and thus keep the Greedy Bastards Among Us from exploitin' and destroyin' 'em in their Vulgar Pursuit of Wealth. They belong to Us!  (Pretty sure that's also why we call 'em "National" and "State" Parks.)  Our Parks have been, up until now, protected from the Carpetbaggers and Corporate Spoilers by Our Government, Our Collective Representation.  

At least until recently, anyway...  

This latest Example of Twisted Socio-Political Capitalist Subterfuge reminds me of all the insanely dangerous Idiots' Indignation that arose when one Crooked Nutjob Millionaire Bastard refused to pay the insanely cheap lease fee for runnin' his cattle on Federal land, like all his fellow ranchers (who knew and acknowledged what a sweetheart deal they were gettin') were doin'. 

Just more Treasonous Prattle used to rile up a Certain Portion of the Population that's been manipulated and bullshat to the point that they can no longer see even the simplest of things because they're too agitated and too narrow-minded and proud to understand or admit they're bein' taken for a ride.  (Not the one they've been tricked into thinkin' they're on.)  

Sorry- that's about as nice as I can describe 'em, and it's far nicer than most of 'em deserve.

None of this has a damn thing to do with a Particular Interpretation of the Constitution or Somebody's Rights.  It is, in reality, just another example of the Manifestations of the Limitless Greed, Hubris, and Unscrupulousness of the Rich, all dressed up, disguised to appear as Proclamations of Inalienable American Privilege.  A Mask covering the Faces of Liars.  All Straight Up Bullshit.

(Gonna leap!  Stay with me...!)

So, just what do all the folks that seem to be just waitin' for their next chance to rally behind the latest Stream of Falsehood, (not all, but mostly from the Conservative Side, insistin' that the only way to create jobs and "save" this country is to continually give the Rich more and more breaks and subject "Corporate Citizens" (ugh!) to less and less regulation), what did they make of former State Representative Eric Cantor (R-VA), that Perennial Cheerleader for Freakin' Big Business, when he announced that he would bail on the remainder of his term to take a position on Wall Street for over Three Million Dollars a year?  Where's the outrage?  Where's the acknowledgin' of the fact that we've all been lied to, hard, and these sonsabitches barely even try to hide it anymore?  Are we so embarrassed when this kinda shit takes place that all we got left is to look the other way and act like it didn't happen?  Have we become that weak-willed, that apathetic?  That ignorant?

Lookin' the other way, puttin' it out of our minds.  I reckon that's what a bunch of us are fixin' to have to do when the drillin' starts in Yellowstone, the loggin' begins in the Smokies, and the minin' commences in Yosemite.  

But wait!  Perhaps Yellowstone could be spared!  Sure:  Divide the iconic gem into large residential tracts, thus allowin' for the construction of New Gated Communities, filled with golf courses and clubhouses nestled among Palatial Estates, Grand Palaces for the Über Wealthy!  After all, they're the Real Deservin' Americans.  Right? 

Now there's some Real Money waitin' to be made!  

Now that's American!

Fish~