Excerpt #454

Ripe goat. Onions. Earth.

I liked to lick it up.

Novel excerpt: the Roller Rink

The house is warm. I melt in my pants. I'm hot like a red river hog going after tree fruit. My pink knees are hot and pink. It feels like I'm bleeding, but I'm not. I'm tired is all. I'm full of stallion. I'm full of viper. I need to get laid.

The miracle worker is on the job. I can call her but I can't. She doesn't like it.

The phone screams.

I know who it is. No one calls but him. I let it ring. I know what he needs. It's like sex the way he needs it. AIDS and I'm the cure. His fix. I am his light. I open the fridge. The milk is bad.

I remember cigarettes and milk.

The fat and the smoke, the way it mingled. The way they danced on my tongue and in my lungs and in my pants. A jar of pickles. Yellow mustard. A radish. I bought it but I didn't want it. I ate its brothers. Devoured, skinned, and suckled while the moon hung over the mountains.

The phone screams.

I laugh.

Just a little bit.

Then I laugh like a red river hog, then I pick up the phone.

End-of-Year Updates

Happy new year, folks!

Here are some recent and future happenings:

December 30 2017 -- I have started writing & recording drums and guitar for two new fuguers cove albums (Satanism & After Midnight), a Marshmen EP, a Burning Silos EP, and Anarchist Wolves' "To The Barricades," the long-awaited follow-up to last years Kill the Fascist Seed EP.

December 15 2017 -- formercactus published a tiny story of mine called "Some Nights." Check it out.

early December 2017 -- I started a blog called Lyrics to Every fuguers cove Song I Write. The content is self-explanatory. I only have 20 songs on there now, but I'll keep adding till all 300+ are up.

~

Coming Soon:

Point Blank Podcast
Kurt & I will be recording Episode 9 of Point Blank Podcast (Cornell Woolrich) and re-recording Episode 6 (Chester Himes) due to an unfortunate technical glitch that damaged the original.


Music

• fuguers cove "Satanism"
• fuguers cove "After Midnight"
• The Marshmen "get slack, fuckers"
• The Burning Silos "Thrash Wizzaards"
• Anarchist Wolves "To the Barricades"
• Euthanized Horse "TBD"

Writing

• Got a poem forthcoming at Origins Online!
• Working on draft three of crime fiction novel-in-progress

I am writing this month / excerpt #1

Hello "folks" / internet winds:

I am working on a noir-ish character-driven crime fiction novel this month.

It is the same novel I was working on last November; however, I'm adding points of view. Many points of view.

If it is a novel, it is an experimental form. If it is a novel-length poem, it is a very structured one.

Here's the voice of an old man waiting in winter at a bus stop for a bus that never comes.

Excerpt:

Broken down Benz. The vehicle his late wife wanted. She wanted a Benz and he had a problem with the Benz because of the war and because the Benz was an expensive car and he had no need for a symbol like that, but she didn’t understand these things because she had had a dream once. And maybe that was why things did not work out with them as he did all the things a good man is supposed to do but he never gave in and let her have her dream and it may be a small thing but small things grow and fester and become great problems and it was too late to realize this now but oh well.

Sunset - excerpt

 It is sunset and my fear grows.

Excerpt #5 from "The Roller Rink" (novel-in-progess)

It’s just one of those things. We get the sadness. It lands on us in the middle of a good time. It perches on our shoulder, whispers in our ear.

Sometimes it takes up residency, but most of the time it sits there a while, then flies off, and you feel the burden lift and all those good thoughts return.

That’s what happened to Trevor, cuz the things I said to him, they were just playful things. Not serious things.  Just good time things. It must have been the sadness that got him. For a little while.

Excerpt #4 from "The Roller Rink" novel-in-progess

You say that a lot, she said.

I do?

You ask a lot of rhetorical questions too. You waste time.

Well, I said, I’m not sure I agree with you on that count.

Like that. What you just said.

What about it? 

Excerpt #3 from "The Roller Rink"

I wasn’t going to actually do it. I was going to make it look that way. Fear and all. Establish the fear.

Excerpt #2 from "The Roller Rink" (novel in progress)

“What I need from y’all is a promise not to scream and holler. I got these headaches, and when y’all are screaming, I get so that I can’t see straight no more. When I get like that, I get dangerous, you hear? I might come over here one day and waste y’all.”

Excerpt #1 from The Roller Rink (novel in progress):

Do what they taught you--he said aloud--do the breathing thing. He raised his arms and flapped his arms and he inhaled sharply and released. He repeated this action three times, then he went into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Corn Pops with milk. The milk had soured, but he didn’t mind. He had eaten worse than soured milk. But the girl, if she became hungry, would require better. He would have to buy some fresh milk. His new friend was getting expensive.