Some came in saucers.
Others had reptile skin.
Some had no skin at all
And weren’t where they had been.
When they landed after tactile.
And just before smell.
One could see them but not feel them
Because touching them was, well…
Waay out of the question.
See them on the edge of sight.
Feel them just past felt.
Communicating soundlessly.
The endless, boundless wealth
Of knowledge.
Five was the number.
The number was five.
Then he’d come awake.
Then he’d be alive!
Seven was a number.
A number which he dread.
Seven was a forcer
Force him outa bed.
One was rent.
Water, fifteen.
Life insurance, taxes
In between.
Then it’s a clean break.
Maybe wake ‘n be baked.
Tummy ache can be faked
Cause school uh waits for you.
Words kept coming
Like non-stop humming.
Like a far away train will rumble you.
You feel the world a rockin’.
You hear somebody talkin’.
The rocks get hot to walk on.
So now you run.
Son-of-a-gun!
Stops being fun.
You come undone.
Not the only one.
And now you’re never tired
Because you’re always wired
And you don’t know
You’re sleeping
Alot more.
Say this again tomorrow.
For tomorrow holds no sorrow.
It’s a brand new day
With a brand new way
Of doing things that
Shouldn’t be done.
But today you can
Replay your plan
Cause today all things are different.
See, the man changed his mind.
Today you’ll find
Him rather kind
So do that which shouldn’t be done.
Fo’ sho’ he was an asshole.
He had those asshole ways.
And without any effort
He could asshole on for daze!
Sometimes he would wonder.
As assholes seldom do.
What made me such an asshole?
Can I dam my river of poo?
Maybe read a book or
Take a course or join a goddamn church.
Or maybe join the military.
They manhandle jerks.
But do it, you do something.
You made this problem, so…
You must quit your assholenish.
Or prison’s where you’ll go.
He just paid income tax and
Tax on his gas and the gasser
Paid their taxes all the way down.
He paid their tax, too.
On his car, too.
Every fucking thing in his house was taxed too!
His food. His clothes.
The fooders and the clothers.
He paid their tax too!
They told him after taxes
That his loot was tax free!
Sweet Jesus, fuck me!
This is tax free?!
Ain’t no tax left for me!
He could hear the birds, or not.
He could flail in this net
But he was caught.
And goddammit, these were problems.
Andy had no way to solve them.
So he cried out to the night.
You know this isn’t right!
Andy’s damn near outa fight!
But the universe wants more.
And Andy, that’s your chore.
You open wide the door.
To you’ve not been before.
You’ll cry in there.
You’ll die in there.
But out here, Andy… live!
Six hundred years old.
On his thirty-ninth childhood.
Jonah finally learned to shit his pants.
He could shit those pants with ease, now.
No need to scare shit out.
All done with zero grunting, he was proud…
Ya gotta learn to shit yourself, he knew.
If it takes six hundred years.
Cause once you learn to shit yourself, my friend.
No shit can come from fears.
Pretend you are a fuckwit.
A moron and a gloat.
Pretend you’ve nothing to offer.
Then think about your oath.
Your oath. Your oath…
Just think about your oath.
To UPHOLD life.
Against all strife.
And now, apparently, you’re in it.
It’s time for you to bring it.
Sing or just wingding it.
But Madame or Good Sir.
Bring it.
It hit him in the gut.
Right. In. The. Gut.
Weren’t no ifs, no ands or buts.
There it was and just because
It was there, he could see it.
He could feel it, be it.
Let it run amok.
Or he could look away.
Go and play.
He could really not give a fuck.
That thing was there.
That much was true.
But it did not tell him what to do.
He could shelve it for the future.
Redesignate it’s past.
He could do this from where he stood right now.
Create a new future and past…
The Devil makes you do stuff.
You don’t want to do.
And God, he wants whatever you want.
Cause God, he works through you.
Satan works in other folks.
Via tempers they can’t control.
They stab you once maybe fitty times
And you don’t ever say whoa!
…
See, God and Lucifer, at your beck and call.
God is gonna help you good.
For Slewfoot, you take the fall.
But buddy, don’t you think for a moment.
You are doing this all.
They didn’t think it was a bear.
Just the shadow of a rock.
Cause this bear never growled
And it never, ever talked.
It just cast this shadow.
Not much there to know to
Run this way or walk all day
But some who say
It’s a bear alright.
We need more fright!
And get out of sight!
Don’t wait til night!
Or it’s cover of darkness.
You disregard this
At your peril.
And they did…
When his lips were moving
And his mouth was on this side.
One could hear the fibs a tumbling.
And, once in a while, collide.
They painted a sunny picture
Full of sunny, sunny ways.
But the sun will gladly take your sight
And leave you in a blinded daze.
He lied and lied and lied and lied.
With smart dressed liars by his side.
They flashed their whitened teeth with glee
And shook with both their hands, look … see!
They held friends fast and enemies faster
They only focus on what they’re after.
And buddy, that ain’t you.
You’re scared.
Am I right?
You don’t sleep good at night?
You, you think they’re watchin’.
No, but they sorta gotcha.
Looking over your shoulder.
Sayin’ ” Dammit! I fucking told ya!”
Hands in ya pockets.
Not your hands, all theirs.
Fingers in your busy-ness.
Fixin’ on your address.
Nothin’ you own’s yours.
You run with man whores.
They, they open doors.
So often they tell you…
And you know they close them too.
He could be artificially intelligent.
He could walk and do that talking.
He could observe without balking.
He had a front and centre seat
To the Shit Show.
Ya, here in the front row,
He could smell the shit.
Got used to it
Being on his clothes and
Up his nose.
From there he rose to the challenge
Like Stonehenge.
Shit was fake as hell…
You had to pay them for paying them.
They charged you for nothing.
Fines tripled and quadrupled.
The cameras missed nothing.
They charged you to use your money.
Had to pay if you didn’t.
Paid to tie your horse up.
Got a fine if you didn’t.
Charged you for the ground
And the rain and the waste.
Charged you for a stadium
While your road lay in waste.
Charged you more for taxes
So they could pile on more debt.
Squeeze you for a little more and
Crazy you, you say yes.
Psst! Ya wanna hear a story?
Bout a guy that wasn’t sorry
That he fibbed about tamorry?
It wasn’t true.
But what could he do?
It was through and though!
No really, what could he do?!
Even facts not true.
He said to you.
Looked your TV in it’s eye.
Said pally, I’m your guy.
And don’t you wonder why.
Just nod, yes sir! Eye, eye!
And kiss your arse goodbye.
Get your tickets ready please!
Oh uh, hello there. How you doing?
Listen, my name is Barry and I'm the Conductor on this train so if you need anything, you just ask me, okay?
The bathrooms are right over there and please, pick up after yourself on account of I clean the place, too.
And uh, seeing as you're not from around here I'll just tell you straight out - although every story you might hear on this train is true, some stories are "truer" than others, if you can read between the rails...
Anyway, thanks for stopping by and, y'all come back now, y'hear?
Have a grand day, friend.
Barry Williams
Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada
