Thomas Merton is crying. buckets. he sits atop his favorite green weeping-willow tree reading his favorite green pocket book of Dr. Seuss's faith and cries SO HARD. his tears form a hard stream of water that loops into a rope and falls down in a rainbow shape from his tear ducts. a unicolor rainbow. of blue and white spray tinged with foamy blood.
Thomas Merton: i should have never become a monk, this was a RASH DECISION, this decision was WRONG. i got so much more life to give!!! to the world. to a woman. i want to FUCKING LIVE!!! LOVE IS GUARANTEED TO ALL!!! this was only TEMPORARY!!! there's nothing other than THIS LIFE!!! now look what you did, Thomas, you wetted the sand chickens down below. my butt has the HARSHEST RASH on it, two red cheeks full of pimples cos of the brutal sandings of these damn twigs in my arsehole!!!
Thomas: what am i gonna do? i have anxiety getting through EACH DAY. reading is boring. i need a MATCH. i need someone to be my MATCH.
JUST THEN a second stream joins Thomas's stream up in the tree and forms a SUPERSTREAM that has joined together in tears and salty sadness.
Knickers: when you say MATCH you man BOTH the complement suited for AND the thing that causes the flames of passion to whip up within.
Thomas: OMG!!! KNICKERS!!! WE HAVE IGNITION!!! forest fire imminent, call the monk firemen. what the FUCK are you DOING here then?!!!
Knickers: i couldn't stay away from you...
Arby's: Florida Evans from Good Times likes our King's Hawaiian sandwich.
Florida Evans: where there's meat there's heat.
Takahashi: i mean sweet and sour sauce is also a Hawaiian bun with mustard...
Corona: what are you doing for Cinco de Mayo?
me: did i miss Cinco de Mayo this year? there's so much stuff going on, so much shit all around me, i've lost control of the calendar, i've lost control over my schedule and my hips.
Corona: that's what happens when you swallow the lime. if you swallow the lime, you die.
Big Sur Marathon: PERFECT WEATHER for the joggers, overcast but not rainy...
Goody Paul from The Weather Channel: forecast overcast...
Comcast: NEVER Comcast...
Goody Paul from The Weather Channel: i never took one drug. except Vanquish pills. i'm a little bit too patriotic.........don't blame me, i'm in Georgia...
Camino de Santiago: where Carmen is finally.
Ice T: did you see me in Breakin'? did you see my luxurious fluffy hair? i was The Ginger Gangsta back then. i look like a Sesame Street Muppet in that dumb movie.
Warren Zevon: you didn't know i had a COOL VOICE, huh. i'm RAD.
Tsitsipas: call me Steph, like Steph Curry...
Rafael Nadal: have you noticed that all these guys beat me ONCE. ONLY ONCE. then you never hear from these men again...
Diana Flores Arenas: they built arenas after me!!!
BUD LITE: easy to drink. we changed the commercial. to white teens in jean-shorts in a golden beer shower at a country music festival. easy to drink now. easy to drink again?...
ranch dressing: nobody thought Italian dressing would EVER be defeated...
foamcore: hardcore punk music on a memory-foam mattress at Sleep Center, no more junk sleep.
at Rucker Park.
grandma on blacktop court in a green velour tracksuit: i can be a basketball player, a hooper, and a model, a shooper, only AFTER i turn 100 years old...
woman: i need a job but honestly life is about Dungeons & Dragons so suck it it's time to guild!!!
Mark Cuban: i was in the Breakin' beach dance scene in the hot pink and magenta purple shirt...
Central Park jogger: can i have that jog jpg?...
Leslie Sbrocco: The Pocket in Carmel? we don't have any restaurant in our pocket, our foodie critics are never filmed eating.........nor drinking...
Drea Blackwell at her wedding in a forest: my husband is literally Mini Aaron Rodgers...
Aaron Rodgers: *looking perturbed*
Drea: you're still taller than him, Aaron!!!...
Doryce: when i get married i'm having a forest wedding like this in Obec Woods.
Gladyce: to Bama?
Doryce: oh no dear, i haven't thought of that big galut in AGES.........it's been like 4 NFL Drafts!!!...
Takahashi: to that Asian guy on Lost?...
Doryce: no, to that kid who plays Peter Pan in the latest iteration. i'll snatch him up right before he goes to college...
Gladyce: i thought you were gonna marry ME, dear!!!
Judy Blume: i'd go to Switzerland and drink the drink.
Greykid: ...
Greykid: euthanasia?
Roger Federer: no, hot cocoa.
published author: i'm not a good writer, i just have a good agent...
Knickers: i signed in as Knickers.
Thomas: you don't have to do that anymore.
Knickers: with the quill pen at the front desk dipping in that inkwell carved with naked cherubs. it was uncomfortable seeing those cherubic penises, Stephanie Niznik thought so, too.
Thomas: you don't have to be my secret paramour anymore. we're out in the open in this open field!!! damn the consequences!!! i don't care what the abbot thinks, he's a butt. sign in as Margie Smith from now on.
Jules Smith: ...
Margie Smith: you're crying, right? you're crying like I'M crying, right? we aren't just drunk.
Thomas: no, despite a bottle brand of wine being named after me last night.
Thomas: MY BACK IS KILLING ME!!!
Margie: get out of that tree, boy!!! it's screwing up your spine. there's only so much i can do, you're gonna need back surgery if you continue reading like this in trees.
Thomas: it's the only way i get high in here. it's the only way i get up. i haven't had a blowjob in years, my fellow monks won't help a brother out on a lonely Saturday night after Vespers.
Margie: that's why i'm here!!! not ONLY that but MOSTLY that.
Thomas: i'm so glad you visited!!! please visit me MORE. like every night. do you want to stay with me? do you want to live in my cell with me? as roommates, we don't have to get married or anything.
Margie: i would love to recreate Three's a Crowd with you.
Thomas: a woman after my own TV-loving heart.
Margie: i went where you told me with that WWII homing device wrapped around my blue beehive hair. Dr. James Wygal? why do you need a psychologist?
Thomas: cos i'm a FUCKING MONK!!!
Margie: that thing was ATTACHED!!! i brought the bottle of champagne.
Thomas: how'd you get it past customs? through the customs conveyor belt that's HERE at this monastery.
Margie: i had to hide it in my vagina.
Thomas: it's big enough. good girl.
Margie: monks like champagne, right?
Thomas: well not really, we're very specific about our wine, the wine's gotta be BLOOD RED to be a good monk wine, you know?
Margie: have you made any changes to the place since you've been here?
Thomas: this place was a DUMP before i came here. and cummed here. before i arrived. i immediately went about making lifelong permanent wholesale legacy changes. the library was rebuilt into the Thomas Merton Book Store, not only is making money off banned books instead of fruitcakes more fun, it avoids me having to relive that time we fucked and cummed unusually at that library. i still have Vietnam flashbacks over that pleasurable day.
Margie: that was quite the encounter, after that fuck session i quit my part-time job as a hooker and gave a lecture at University of Edinburgh Queens Medical Research Institute entitled Fucking In A Library: The Ultimate Sex. you know cos it's a combination of body and mind.
Thomas: how's Pavlo?
Margie: he flew away.
Thomas: on bird wings?
Margie: no, on his Leonardo da Vinci flying machine...
Margie: when you're here, cut all the phone lines with a scissors.
Thomas: good tip. how was my tip? my penis tip.
Margie: hey, can i do a lecture here?
Thomas: on the medical profession?
Margie: no, it's gonna be about the favorite sexual positions of monks. TONS of charts and graphs, i've seen A LOT OF SHIT in my time as a nurse.
Thomas: yes, absolutely, i'll tell the abbot, he will LOVE having you as a guest, we monks can learn SO MUCH from a woman.
Thomas kisses Margie on the forehead.
Margie: that was LAME, Tommy. come on, kiss my vagina.
Thomas: you're right.
Margie: i am happy. i am at peace now.
Thomas: as am i.
one second later.
the two of them are CRYING BUCKETS IN UNISON as they HUG EACH OTHER TIGHT NEVER LETTING GO staining the other's sweater with cry water.
Thomas: NO I'M NOT!!! no i'm NOT AT PEACE!!! i gotta get OUT OF HERE!!! i'm sadder than i've EVER BEEN!!! i am so glad i did NOT call it off, I NEED YOUR BODY!!! NOT THE BODY OF CHRIST!!!
Margie: all those lonely nights in my empty London flat when you were gone my heart was empty. i looked out our window at night, past the dead hanging ferns to the stars, they were cloudy. the stars were always cloudy in London. i kept wondering if you were thinking of me. i was thinking of you. would our love LAST? or in due time would we forget that we ever loved each other, would our love sputter and dissipate instead of steeling us through the hard times apart.
Thomas: the only thing that's sputtering right now is my floppy dick. no computers allowed at the monastery. only computers for fruitcake orders. not to get all sappy like this tree but our love goes on. it's real. they only allow me to listen to Celine Dion in here.
Margie: why didn't i hear any news from you all this time?
Thomas: this monastery is too cheap to pay for newspapers to be delivered here.
the couple wipe away each other's eyes and taste the other's tears on their quivering lips. smiles seep through the sorrow on their mouths.
Margie: don't travel to dangerous places to see me, see me here. don't go to a filling station, i'll fill you up here. don't drink beer, drink wine.
Thomas: yeah you're right, beer is cheap, wine is refined. FUCK MY VOWS!!! FUCK RELIGION!!! let's get married, we are destined to be, you were meant to be my wife, it's obvious, i mean LOOK AT US!!!
God sees down below the clearing of this massive tree not two middle-aged adults having a pleasant conversation but rather two 50-somethings acting like two crazy teenagers running around the trunk of the tree.
God: look at this lovely multi-green-shaded Shel Silverstein Giving Tree here, some of my best work. and these two children chasing each other, pulling down skirts and robes.
God: look at these two, look at the mischievously joyous smiles on their faces, they look like a man and a woman who have both swallowed the canary. the pact has been pacted, they can't turn back, they're starting to feel their taboo rise like an electric shock up the hairs of their knees. they look like two tense teens who have just discovered a Satanic cult in the woods and are simmering to smile...
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