pg 48

December 7, 2009, 4:11 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

i want to tell you what’s been happening at the lake:

first things first, there are less trout this year. in fact, if only based on us and what we haven’t found, it would be entirely accurate to say this: there are no trout. not a single trout. this has added an entirely melancoly tinge to the old adage around here which is, as you know, ‘if you don’t like pickerel, you can always get trout.’ ever the valiant one, your brother dale has thrown himself to the task of finding them. it has created a great deal of anxiety and tension that i worry will boil over. he’s been up every morning, whispering to himself (and the fish, in equal parts) in that gruff tone of his that manages to rasp its way under the crack of the door and into my ears. not that it matters. what have you done for me trout? where’s my sandwich trout? my back is sore, who wants to rub it? certainly not trout. that bastard left me, abandoned me years ago. that kind of thing.

i’ve been crying a lot. there was a moment in operation dumbo drop, and another in (we’ve been watching a lot of movies to pass the time)


December 7, 2009, 12:47 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

t-this cut hurts, it burns. i can feel it burning, all last night it burned. i thought my pillow was getting hotter i thought my dreams lit it on fire.
m-no you didn’t, we need to work, you said yourself, we need to work
t-so i got up in the middle of the night, i KEPT getting up in the middle of the night to look at it, see if it wasn’t spreading. it’s so smooth. how can something so smooth hurt and burn
m-it can’t. how much did you expect to get done today? did you bring the homework like i asked? what about the notebook? your glasses? lunch? you didn’t htink about lunch. you didn’t bring us lunch. i saw you come in and i know you didn’t have any lunch with you. and now i’m going to get hungry. i could’ve made lunch. i was right there. in the kitchen. thinking about lunch. i bought bread and i kept it, i didn’t leave it out like last time because last time, well, you know what happened last time, we WROTE about last time. it came out good.
t-i want to write about the burn
m-we’re not, no. that won’t work, there is no burn
t-touch it! it’s hot, go ahead and fucking touch it. it’s hot.
m-it’s not going to be hot. what about the rest of your head, the part of your head that isn’t smooth, that isn’t shaved bald, that you didn’t shave bald. is that hot? well i bet not [at this rhyme, m, starts dancing around the kitchen, laughing at his rhyme, then starts looking for lunch]
m-not under the notebook. lunch? give it to me lunch, take me to the movies lunch. buy me a necklace lunch. thank you lunch, you’re right lunch this is a new dress. i bought it down the street, half off, two for the price of one but i said no, i want half, one dress i told her, it’s the same. but the girl wouldn’t listen, shopkeeper. i talked it down, i said, hey, listen. i’m buying this for lunch. she didn’t care about you lunch, she didn’t. i stole this dress for you lunch.
t-i brought lunch. [t takes two eggs out of his pocket, he sets one down and hold the other. the one set down starts rolling off the table, t goes to grab it but can’t. the egg rolls off the table and t catches it, juggles the two eggs and drops one. t looks down at it, quietly upset, frustrated in the face only, t takes the other egg and smashes it against his smoooth bald patch. the lights go down while the sounds of eggs frying in a pan fill the room in darkness]

doctor-there’s scrambled egg in your hair
t-my beard hair? i know, i didn’t have time
d-no your head, on your head there’s egg.
d-i would’ve guessed breakfast
t-it was lunch.
d-do you eat ketchup on your eggs,
t-if i have the time
d-if you have the time? where’s your fridge, you keep your ketchup in the fridge i assume
t-no, no, no. the cupboard. i don’t have the time.