Friday, October 30, 2009

Mutilation Muse

He crept up on his victim.
Knife held high.
His heart pounded in his chest
as his plan ran through his mind
over and over again.
He knew this was
a job he had to do.
Razor sharp steel
piercing flesh,
changing this perfect form
into something
horrifyingly different
and unrecognizable.

Carving pumpkins was carnage.

This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.

If you want to know what the hell that means visit g-man.

The challenge is on.

Or come back on Sunday to try my Sunday 160.

If you can fill a text message, you can do this.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Fish Stinks from the Head

Written up and verbally spanked.
Watching as the set up for the future
was being indirectly laid out.

The stink rose from it as if the paper
had been flavored by the words and
pressed from the compost of evil
thoughts and manipulative planning
that had bred this blood sport.

Toe the line. Meet unstated goals.
Don't make any mistakes and please
check your sense of humor at the door.

Family and camaraderie are spoken
here but only played out as a fantasy.
We want to pretend to look good so
our Gods of a greater corporate level
can see that we mean well.

It is all about facade.
True heart means nothing.
Soulless eyes lead.
Church on Sunday allows them
to be forgiven and let's them
live with their sin in a false skin.

A skin uncomfortable to me.
Let them have it.
Let them chafe.
Let them view a reflection that
looks familiar but scares just the same.

Agendas are kept hidden as new plots
hatch from the rot of spoiled minds.

Honor and honesty don't play
in today's game.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Getting Hitched

Moving is among the most stressful things that can happen in the average person’s life. It may not be at the top, but it makes the list and I have yet to talk to anyone who is overjoyed at the prospect of boxing up their lives and living the chaos of not having access to your junk at one residence and reorganizing at the other.

MM: “Where’s my underwear?”
Mrs. MM: “You packed them. You ought to be able to find them. If not, you just go commando?”

So those are the minor details and time will get us organized again. The real fun is getting people together, filling up that Uhaul and all the goofiness that goes along with a bunch of non-professionals pretending to know what they are doing. Me...I drive the truck and pack the back like a Tetris pro. King size bed at the back, couch here, desk there, fill holes with boxes and try not to break stuff or scratch Mrs. MM's furniture. Remember those luggage commercials with the gorillas tossing around bags? Well, we just can't allow that.

Packing the truck goes pretty well. We manage to get everything we wanted into it plus quite a few items we thought would have to go on a second trip. Down goes the back door of the truck. Our friends start taking off to meet us at the new house and I hop into the cab of the Uhaul, slip the key into the ignition, fire that baby up, put it in gear and step on the gas. Rrrrrrrrr spin the tires as I go nowhere. "What the..." I say to myself as the stench of burning rubber wafts through my nostrils, "how come I'm not moving?"

Out I jump from the cab. Mrs. MM looking not too pleased informs me that we seem to have the trailer hitch stuck on the small rise in our driveway. Shit! High centered in my own drive. I am pissed that I've done something stupid....again.

At this point everyone involved in the move becomes an expert engineer. Neighbor Brian grabs wood planks and a hammer from his garage and starts shoving them under the tires that just don't seem to want to touch ground completely. My mother-in-law starts randomly shoving two by fours around the end of the bumper and calls her husband asking him to drive over with a big length of pipe. I grab a pry bar from my garage (thank God I didn't throw it in the back just to fill a little more space). Mrs. MM puts her driving expertise to good use.

We rock and push and pry and smoke tires and try more wood and gravel and chanting and do an 'unstick my truck' dance. Nothing. We huddle and try more of the same but this time I stick my pry bar under the trailer hitch and stand on it. We move about a half an inch. No one notices but me. So we try more rocking and pushing and gravel. I stand on the pry bar and start jumping up and down on it. Miraculously and through all our efforts we sccccraape off the rise in the drive and are ready to move again....45 minutes later.

Mrs. MM drives the truck around the corner and parks it. When she returns neighbor Brian is putting his detective hat on and analyzing the scrapes the truck's hitch made in the driveway that have left a clear 'N' like shape.

"Looks like he backed up once, scraped just a little on this rise then moved forward and backed up harder a second time to get further up the driveway," he surmises. "That's why it high centered. He made two runs at it to get it more stuck the second time."


Yes, I used my best testosterone laden punch to the gas to see how far up the driveway I could get this baby when I parked it. The first effort wasn't good enough, so I did it again. Truth be known I wasn't really surprised when it was high center, I was just hoping to get enough traction to pull it off the rise. As Homer Simpson said in his sing-song fashion - "I am smart SMRT, I mean SMART."

What would a move be without a memorable moment to tell the grandchildren. I bet you've had your own memorable move. Wanna share?

Sunday, October 25, 2009

A New Home

The day was bright and beautiful.
The work was back breaking for old men
not used to hard labor.
You discover who your true and
best friends are
when you move.

This is a Sunday 160.
Take the Challenge if you dare.

The move is done. We now live out of boxes until we get organized again....but that's a whole different story.