Wednesday, February 10, 2016


Binny (holding up her ipad mini): the thing about this life all eventually fades away....
Rumi: what's that say on your insta? nice tits?
Binny (scrollin'): nice tats. which is strange cos i don't have any.
Rumi: tattoos?
Binny: breasts.
Rumi hugs Binny in time. Binny tries for the kiss also.
Rumi: after all our accomplishment, cancer remains a mystery, coming in like an unwanted shower to sweep away our boldest and brightest. to think it all starts with a cough.

Codrus: not anymore.
Codrus has grown to be a giant. Sid can only take the measure of the man in space.
Sid: fe fi fo fum
Codrus: that's racist. or the other one. i'm an Amazon. resist the rasist in you. we must all be better. bigger.
Codrus removes his Abraham Lincoln hat and places it by his statuesque side as a memorial. he takes the tiara off his stone sister and places it regally upon his head.
Codrus: beyond human. unlabelable. evolved out of evolution. new for the first time in herstory. behold! the night mare! as foretold in the only book left.
Codrus begins sniffing up his nose white planets, star systems, holes in the universe. comet trails are left on his nostril sides like mucus. he never breathes out, only in. it makes a sound of a horn call to arms. a warning.

a majestic steed gallops its way across the galaxy. there are no end to ends anymore, so it gallops forelegs through space and hindlegs through time. from one angle it's on fire, the other, ice. it has that look of nobility, of finality, of carrying out a mission, it was bred for this, it bears its bearing in its flaring nostrils as it huffs its way toward the apocalypse, this current one anyway, bearing down on poor Quinny in its path. at the last moment Glidden saves Quinny, grabbing her by the shoulder, pulling on her aside, taking her one side, preventing her from being trampled.

Quinny kisses Glidden. in the mouth.
Quinny: almost got punched in the mouf. canned. cammed. my hero! so whaddaya say, old boy? i don't have much time left.
Glidden makes the Neil deGrasse Tyson motion.
Quinny: i see. yeah, it wouldn't work out. you're not on my level.
the two smile at each other, clearly for the last time, and give each other indian burns.
Glidden: not into girls. not into anything anymore.
Quinny: emo or asexual?
Glidden: why must everything be about sex? why can't i just be sick? yeah, people think that but this isn't makeup, i'm just light-skinned. HEY BIG MAN UPSTAIRS IN SPACE! i can do animals, too.

a BMX bike wheels itself to the surface from the other side and peeks his handlebars face at the scene. he takes a long hard look at what's in front of him. he can't see everything beyond the peak he's on but he sees enough. disillusioned at the space where the horse was, the bike wheels himself backwards, his handlebars hanging so low they act like a kickstand. he doesn't have the will to ascend the hill, instead he quietly retreats, so softly his tires make no tracks on the surface. if you look closely, which is impossible in this light, you can see a small down crack in the V of the handlebars.

the BMX bike: the thrill is gone..................................................................................................

Glidden transforms into a murder of crows that flies to the sand planet, the last planet, and then into a wedge of pink swans which begin to form a circle...

Codrus: ah, my horse. i will not name you, that would limit you. i will not mount you, that would stain you. somehow. you have no color, you are progressive. but i will say you were better than the first horse i made. that was a starter horse. no good. weird. bucked its master. the prototype rarely works out, that's why you must always replace it, and replace the replacement.

a glue monster spews itself to form from the moon crater.

Bump (holding a red ball): tell me about it. do not fear, it's me, Bump! is there something i should know? don't stuff the box, give me time.

Kobe Bryant: yeah, give me space. space to see my winning personality. you only saw one side on the court, where i created space for my shot. see my smart. see my funny. see my lingual. you like me now, huh? it always works out that way. as long as you live long enough. life is not a numbers game.

Codrus transforms into a giant Hilary just to cast her shadow over Bump.

Bump: that's just cruel, boss. after all i was loyal to yous. you can't hate your way to success. it eventually just burns you up.

steam inhales Bump back down the crater. the steam pushes Kobe out into the stars.

the horse rams its way to the Center, sacrificing itself to the ever-increasing altar of Fireball that's becoming less and less sky. still no explosion though. no grand. no Big Bang, this current one anyway.

Codrus: what does it take to start over?

Cotard: that's horrible. that's one thing i will not abide. animal abuse is not art. how could you be so callous? have you forgotten your animality? i like my gods to pass their primality test.

Codrus: now there are no more messy prime numbers. everything makes sense. oh it's just doing its job, a loyal mountless soldier, equestrian equanimity. why do you care so much?

Cotard: horseracing is a crime. the sins we have committed in the name of pleasure. just cos we were top dog. and we never had a cat.

the last train car is making its presence known bigger writ on the sky. it sits there like a stone but it does not thud, its oven burns brightly and is becoming the only light in the galaxy. Fuerza hangs her big butt on the open window of it, warming her bresciani socks by the pizza fire. the calluses are burnt off her feet. it's hard to discern but the darkness is slightly overpowering the light. Fuerza's yellow mixes with the blue to form natural green. Codrus's red mixes with the blue to form violent.

Codrus: civil war is so uncivil. why not combine our differences?

Cotard: be careful, mama. hey how did you enter that thing? there seems to be no front door. no entrance.

Codrus: yes, Mama, i need to speak to the man of the house.

Fuerza: that's sexist. he's right here under my skirt.

Moby emerges from inside the coal caboose after a sucking sound.

Moby: ah, ahem, yes. what would you like to know my good and bad man?

Codrus: i don't know how you're doing it but i still can't access your car. the train yes but not your specific car. what's driving that thing? forcefield?

Moby: forcefield he says with a straight face. do you know how much energy that would take to maintain? even free energy has a price.

Moby: you can see inside my coal chamber if not be inside it, which is enough. this oven provides the energy of the multiverse. my job is lonely but lovely, vicious yet vital. i am solely responsible for shoveling coal into this thing. hourly. if i slack off, everything turns to nothing. i've seen nothing, it's not a pretty sight. i can't take a sick day.

Cotard: what's the coals?

Moby: they used to be plentiful in the universe. you could fly right up to a fluffy star trail and pluck them out. they lined all the rainbow roads. but then man was born and fucked everything up. last i heard the stones normally floating around space were being harvested and painted with tin gold flaking by a cheap hand.

everyone looks at Codrus who gives the deGrasse hands-up.

Cotard: what's that switch?

Codrus: my, shiny.

Moby: this here is the golden lever. made of real gold. there are but two positions: SIMPLICITY and COMPLICATEDNESS. i keep it in the middle mostly. each morning i pop my head out the window and pop open my telescope to take stock of the stars...

Codrus: nice scope. see how the winds are prevailing. thanks, it's telescopic, telephoto, and eidetic. most importantly it's long. i'm entrusted with keeping things balanced, even-keel. it can't be too complicated out there that it's unsolvable, yet it is ultimately simple. the clues are the ones hard to decipher, that's the key on Mabel's sweater.

Moby looks out and waves at Tob on Tob's planet who waves back.

Codrus: why do anything? did the old man put you up to this? he's so lazy, always napping when you need him the most. so forgetful in his old age. he's the standard starving artist who finally eats some bread. he's the creator who ends up destroying his own franchise out of ennui, contracting out the homework that needs to be done. always do your homework or you won't be prepared for the changes. you must never be caught flatfooted. change your socks. he's Chris Carter.

Cotard: hey.

Codrus: alright, alright, let's just see how it ends.

Fuerza: let me touch your stick, mijo, after all i touched your stick.

Moby (exasperated): NO WAIT! ONLY I CAN TOUCH MY STICK!

Fuerza handles the lever up and down and turns it to SIMPLICITY.



it's funny how when things are coming to a head, things get shorter.

Sid, Glidden, and Rumi are engulfed in fire, by their own heads. the acid rain falls down on them and combusts.

the circle strengthens, it's not just a surface circle anymore. Sid, Glidden, and Rumi cry out in pain equidistant from each other, forefinger and thumb clasped, only breathing out. calmly. in rhythm. eyes closed. edges of the universe start to quiver again. the swans in the middle of the circle scatter away as waves begin to form. it's looking like home again. small flames appear above the heads of the three spiritual surfers.

Moby: music. when you can't think of a joke, music.

Sid, Glidden, and Rumi: something's missing.

Cotard: you're right. i've been missing my music. chants aren't enough. i've been missing being funny.

breadcrumbs thrown by Codrus.

Codrus (laughs): so easy.

breadcrumbs enter the center of the circle and bring the swans back in as they lose their grace and fight for dominance over who gets the bigger piece.

Codrus laughs. internally this time. he pictures in his heart, located in his head, his finger twirling, and the backwards rain is made right again. and made acid from his yellow drips.

Codrus: and it was good. i'm seeing it. now to fix the twirling of the universe. there's gotta be a better shape than swirl.

the three bums begin singing. their voiceboxes grow heavy with vibration created anew in the void. their boxes outweigh the boxes they are in. the power of the group. they form the first harmony. as they sing, rain emerges from within their prayer circle, rain that falls upwards. plain rain.


Jules said...

No, the thing about life is - Everything falls apart eventually, my sweet.
For the first time in herstory! Love that!
I have my golden lever wedged firmly into complicatedness. It helps me understand the upwards rain. *)

the late phoenix said...

juli mah dahlin: there's also complexity but complicatedness is more complicated *big kiss* *)