A strip of white, a red stripe
A patch of blue with a blinking star
Bare limbs rattle in a gust
Crisp leaves pirouette and drop dead
Old Glory has curled into itself against the cold
Roosevelt Roach
So there I go after that rascal Lewis and I’m just too fat for this kind of thing nowadays. Crazy Lewis and his tomfoolery are always getting me into some kind of mess. If you want to know my opinion he’s breathed in too much of that boric acid. I tell him to keep clear of that stuff but he won’t listen and I think that dust has given him brain damage. How else can you explain his jackass ideas and stunts he’s always pulling?
Since we moved into the Roosevelt, Lewis and me have been living high on the hog, I tell you what. The grub here is top notch, the carpets are velvety soft and the tile is nice and cool. But I say to Lewis, I say: “Lewis, we got to keep a low profile here, buddy. One look at a pair of jokers like us and the management sends in the chemical warfare units.”
Everyone knows the Roosevelt is a ritzy joint. A far cry from the Ambassador across town where one of the sleazebag owners has to see a whole bunch of us before he does a damn thing. And that “damn thing” usually amounts to no more than putting a few traps behind the toilet that none of us are stupid enough to go into. At any rate, I’m saying the Ambassador may be a lot safer but the amenities leave a little to be desired as does the clientele who frankly make my thorax creep.
But does Lewis listen to me? No.
There I was enjoying breakfast in front of suite 209 where a guest had put a room service tray out the night before. Like I said, I am getting fat living here. This was prime rib and I was working on a nice scrap of pink flesh still on the bone when up pops Lewis over the crust of a dinner roll. He says to me, “Jimmy, I got an idea for some fun.” His antennae start bouncing every which way when he gets excited about something, especially if risk is involved.
Lewis finds out there is going to be a big fundraiser in the oak ballroom for the mayor. They’re charging a thousand clams a plate so you know the hotel is going to be lousy with politicians, celebrities and captains of industry types. His big idea for fun is to run out on the guest of honor table just after the main course is served.
I say, “Lewis, have you lost your mind? That’s suicide or, at the very least, our eviction.”
But he doesn’t listen, and before I have a chance to argue the elevator down the hall opens and out comes housekeeping so we scurry off, toot sweet.
Well, the night of the big event comes and, despite my better judgment, we head down to the oak ballroom. Beneath the crystal chandeliers the upper echelon of society are seated around enormous circular tables facing the stage at the head of the ball room. The zeitgeist is dressed to the nines in black ties and pearls and sipping top shelf booze. Behind a long table on the stage the honored guests are positioned in order of importance from both ends to the middle where the mayor sits beside an ornate lectern fixed with a couple of microphones. Lewis climbs up the white table cloth to take a peek with me right behind, all the while trying to convince him to reconsider. Just as everyone starts to chow down on the main course Lewis takes off, making a beeline (Ha! Yes, I know: beeline. Very funny.) for the far side.
Of course, this night of all nights, the Roosevelt decides to serve broiled lamb chops and two places down from the mayor, a careless diner lets a dollop of mint jelly slide off her spoon right onto the nice, clean table cloth directly in the path of a lunatic cockroach named Lewis. In his frenzy to cross he doesn’t notice the sticky, green gelatin until it’s too late and he plows headlong into the goop. Now he’s stuck and the lady beside the mayor is pointing and screaming and the mayor is motioning for a waiter and somebody else is hammering away with a teaspoon trying to kill poor Lewis.
I do my best to reach him before the spoon hits home but my extra weight has made me a lot slower than I used to be. At this point the whole table is on alert for creepy-crawlies and my presence does not go unnoticed. Every few inches some yahoo is trying to brain me with a water glass or a piece of cutlery. I was almost skewered with a fork before I got to helpless Lewis. I gobble up enough jelly around his big, empty head to get him loose and we take off together over the edge of the table.
The situation on the other side of the lectern is a little less frantic and we have a little time to catch our breath in the shelter of saucer. Lewis is enjoying all of this, mind you, and is giggling away while he licks the mint jelly out of his leg hairs when a big hand lifts our cover, leaving us wide open for a coup de grace from a rolled up copy of the Daily Herald.
This time we take a stealthier route, scuttling sideways along the front of the tablecloth to the horror of the entire assembly. The free flowing material is a difficult terrain compared to a flat table top and we struggled over the folds like hikers over a wilderness of snow drifts. We make it to the floor and don’t stop running until we reach the kitchen and sanctuary beneath a freezer unit. Lewis is in hysterics, rolled over on his wings and beating his abdomen with all six legs laughing like a loon on the floor of an asylum.
The very next day , as I predicted, there is an army of goons hosing the joint down with liquid death while the Roosevelt’s assistant manager follows them around with a clipboard carrying on like it’s the end of the world. I tell you what, one day I’m gonna have to cut that Lewis adrift, but as for now I guess it’s back to the Ambassador.
Economy
A dry rasp of cellophane scrapes
White noises’ impenetrable wall
Where pages of the daily news snap,
pennants on the battlements
Rattling ice in a plastic cups
Silent crystal lace on the windows
Hushed voices murmur,
the secret language of ghosts
A salient protest from a babe in arms
Pierces the cyclonic fury of twin engines
heaving sub zero blue
Villanelle for an Old Friend
Some time ago, I read a criticism on modern poetry posted online. It was the author’s opinion that today’s poets are unable to write verse in classic forms such as sonnets and the like. He held that bards in our present era had abandoned poems with deep meaning that utilized rhythm, rhyme and structure, preferring instead, undisciplined lines of rambling, obtuse emotions.
There is some truth in this: the last Kenyon Review I read did not contain any Ballads, Odes or Epics. However, relinquishing classic methodology does not necessarily translate into ineptitude as the author implied. Rather than piling on with his many detractors in the comments section, I chose to prove that I was capable by composing a villanelle.
I mostly forgot all about it until this weekend when I received news that I had lost one of my dearest and oldest friends unexpectedly. He and I grew up together and formed the type of bond you might find between brothers, one that created a secret language, codes and references understood only by the two of us. He was a talented musician, playing the guitar was effortless to him, he simply channeled divinity. Despite his gift, he was never conceited, and was always charitable to the ham-fisted way I approached my instrument.
At the time I wrote this poem, I would have thought it inconceivable that I would be dedicating it to his memory one day.
I will blow a trumpet bright To summon this old man from sleep I will beat a snare drum tight He slumbers on as if it is night While all around the ladies weep I will blow a trumpet bright If cacophony helped him reunite With life from his silken box he'd leap I will beat a snare drum tight My towhead has grown slowly white I've watched friends go as the clock hands sweep I will blow a trumpet bright Now you have gone, my dearest light Tears rise from the well of sorrow deep I will beat a snare drum tight I have grown old but yet not erudite And still try and wake what I wish to keep I will blow a trumpet bright I will beat a snare drum tight
Cleave
We tied our rafts together Touched a friendly current Our courses divide and life runs wild yet As forever branches We are never parted
Pensacola Gulf Winds
I often wish I could enjoy myself like a normal person without having to look for deeper meaning in everything I do or every place I visit. For instance, a cold beer can just be a refreshing cocktail and the seashore can represent nothing more than a day at the beach.
If you ever get a chance to experience the Gulf shoreline, you won’t be disappointed, it is an overlooked jewel of the U.S. coastline. Go, let it loose, enjoy the simple things in life at face value. But don’t be surprised if it inspires you to create something from nothing.
Take the car out riding A full moon is bright Drive down to the end of the road Where the water touches the night It’s too hot for sleeping For toss and turning around I might not find an angel down here But I know I will hear the sound When them Pensacola Gulf winds blow Don’t them Pensacola Gulf winds blow Sometimes I think I hear them Call my name but I just don’t know Sometimes I think I hear them tell me It’s easy just to let it go Moonlight off the water Them pirate ships can’t hide I never got where I wanted to go But it sure was one hell of a ride I never thought of leaving A note to say where I am But you’re smart, you’ll figure it out And like most folks won’t give a damn
More music can be enjoyed or scoffed at here on the music page: John Truelove Music
For the Birds
The birds are already up as I boot my trusty Ubuntu. It is still dark but the air is filled with bright, morning song. Each feathered genus with their own unique melody. In parts of Africa it is common for people to gather and sing before work. I like to sing. A person asked me if I could teach them talent. I said, no, but as a human we are all given a voice, the earliest musical tool so perhaps I am wrong. Last night I dreamed of singing. I was at a Rob Halford concert, only he was also playing guitar. I was asked to come on stage with some other men to sing a Judas Priest song but when the tune began, I did not know any of the words. Humiliated, I left the stage, went to my seat and grabbed my things for a hasty exit from the venue but there was more than I could carry and I labored to collect everything in vain. This is a recurring theme in my nightmares, I am in a hurry to go somewhere but I can’t collect all of my possessions before I can leave. No matter how hard I try, I keep finding more junk to pack up. It is okay to lay awake in bed. My other theme is trying to punch my father in the face but my blows have no force. At one point in my Halford dream, I had a big cardboard box I was trying to fill with surgical gauze. Frustrated, I began hitting it like a boxer at the heavy bag, wishing a heavy weight would do the same to me until my ribs were shattered and I could die of internal wounds. It is not okay to lie awake in bed. It is bad grammar or you are not be facing reality. Either way, don’t do it. It will be hot in Houston today. It will likely be hot in Africa, too. It is gnat season, they have have descended. Clouds swarm for the sole purpose of annoying humans. Maybe they come to save their own kind from animal testing. In biology lab, we observed fruit flies beneath a microscope as we eye-dropped different chemicals into their environment. The results were not astounding. Caffeine made them jumpy, barbiturates made them sleepy or dead, it was hard to tell even with a microscope. I enjoy coffee and the chemicals inside. I often wish for a barbiturate whenever I am lying or laying awake. There are some terrible bugs in Africa. I know of a fly whose bite can cause blindness. I learned about this at the Jimmy Carter Presidential Library in Georgia. The former commander and chief started a charitable organization to help those people suffering from the malady and research treatments for the disease. If you remove the G, the word is short for Nathaniel. I know a Nat but never see him anymore. I would have heard by now if he has passed on but I suspect Nat considers people to be as annoying as gnats and so stays away from us. Every time I attempt to write free form without stopping like Jack Kero-something, I end up with a rambling mess and wonder why I didn’t go outside and sing with the birds.
Campaign
Insect song played by an ensemble of rattling wings, legs and mandibles fills the morning air, heavy with late Summer and reeking of Witch flower. A pair of lungs labor past a gully choked with Baal thorn and Scratch weed wearing a thin coat of red dust courtesy of the dirt road and its unerring spine of stiff, dry grass. Eyes burn with unrest and want. The thunder of insatiable appetites rumble inside guts. Boots thud into town. Everything is promised while the string is pulled from a sack of malignancy.
Whoa! Slow Down America
Memorial Day is the traditional start of the Summer season. It is hard to believe the holiday is right around the corner and as it approaches so does the promise of sun drenched days at the beach or pool, barbecues, fireworks, and of course, the family vacation. But before you pack up the Winnebago and head out to the coast or a National Park, consider a getaway to less traveled locations. They might be closer to home, a lot cheaper and less crowded.
As the title of this article suggests, I am suggesting we all take a moment to enjoy the little things in life that naturally slow us down and help us ponder the reason for our existence. Of course, I am talking about some of America’s most natural wonders: Speed Bumps.
Here are some of my favorites.
Legions of grieving fans pay a visit to the grave site of fallen music icon Prince ever year. This pop-star pilgrimage makes up a whopping 94% of Minnesota’s annual tourist revenue. That means while big crowds are queuing up to pay their respect, you can take advantage of the small lines at the Cedarhurst Speed Bump of the DOT entrance off 394. This majestic formation dates back to almost a decade before anyone had ever heard of Prince yet still retains the brilliant industrial yellow which is best viewed in full daylight. Closed on weekends.
Nashville is well known as the Country Music capital of the world but what many don’t know, or won’t tell you about, is the Speed Bump of Park-N-Pay just outside the bright lights and fanfare of the legendary Honky Tonk Highway. This noble beauty rises with a gentle grade to a modest but elegant summit. Sadly, at the time of this writing, the right side of the Bump has suffered a fissure and there is a danger of splitting free and crumbling. Be sure to call ahead for information about closures or hazardous conditions.
An ugly controversy over ownership has surrounded Glenbrook Speed Bump in Cleveland. However, the bitter dispute has done nothing to detract from the august, I daresay, imposing shoulders of this Bump of rugged beauty. Locally known as “Old Tarhead,” Glenbrook is comprised of dense conglomerated synthetics created in a crucible of high pressure and heat. Old Tarhead’s composition sets it apart from the other stone based formations on this list. He is far younger, too. You can begin your ascent of Old Tarhead from either side of the two territories still squabbling over possession, East from Kohls or West from Ulta.
No list of American Speed Bumps would be complete without the Whispering Oak Twins in Houston. Found far of the beaten path, this unique pair of Bumps can be be a bit challenging to access but the rewards are breathtaking. Side-by-side, the massive width of the Twins more than makes up for their elevation, which a first time visitor may find underwhelming, and the dominating deposits of chalky white that stripe their indomitable backs are awe inspiring. During wet weather, you may be treated to the sight of a glistening stream running between the Twins. To be on the safe side be sure to check local weather; flooding in the Houston area is common.
The Tube
Over the last three years I have undergone around ten cranial MRIs.
I found my first experience unpleasant but I expected that with each successive one, I might grow accustomed to the procedure or at least find a way to better endure them. Neither has happened. In fact, they get worse each time.
Rather than complain, however, I decided to convert my personal tribulations into useful knowledge for anyone who may be facing an appointment with mechanical resonance.
The MRI
Overview
MRI or Magnetic resonance imaging is a tool that creates a detailed image of body organs and tissue, repressed childhood memories, greatest fears, disgusting habits, the deep, dark secrets that you hide from everyone including close friends and your spouse, your true political affiliation, biases of all sorts and every password to every account in your name.
Also known as the Truth Tube or the God Pipe, this unique machine was first conceived by neurologists in Nazi Germany. However, the plans were seized during the allied invasion and developed after the war by a special consortium of scientists and United States agents in an underground laboratory outside Phoenix, Arizona. The MRI uses special magnets modeled after the original Ingots of Jehovah excavated at a site in modern day Jordan near the Dead Sea.
Why the MRI is Used
The MRI is a non-invasive means for doctors to examine the body, peer into your soul and read your mind. Before the MRI was released for use on the general public, physicians were required to cut into a subject with the help of a trained surgeon or barber for internal examinations. Because demons and their waste products, called sin, create all human maladies, doctors were limited in their treatment options since the large openings created by surgical incision allowed the demons to escape before being properly excised with special regimens of prayer and bleeding.
The arrival of the MRI also enabled the government to become more involved in the lives of U.S. citizens and offer better processes for managing your affairs from the time you are born until the time you are no longer needed.
Risks
All medical procedures carry inherent risks and MRIs are no exception. The powerful magnetic field created by the Ingots of Jehovah will attract any metal inside the body and bring it to the surface of the skin along with the truth of why you have foreign bodies inside you. It is highly likely that the microchip to monitor your activities injected during one of your vaccines will be disabled. The MRI technician will replace the malfunctioning chip with a new one after your procedure has been completed at no additional charge.
While extensive resonance will not damage your internal organs it may reduce their resale value if and when you decide to sell them to internet harvesters in order to supplement your retirement income.
Exposure to intense magnetic waves for an extended period of time, especially if the magnets are reproduced from Materials of Divinity, may produce magnetism in certain individuals. This is known as Favorable Response to Grace or FRG. You will find yourself attracted to others who experience FRG. Feel free to associate with these individuals. Conversely, you will be repelled by those who do not have a Favorable Response to Grace. You must avoid such people and report any suspicious enterprise you happen to witness.
An MRI is painless due to the numbing effect and the sedative mixed into the contrast solution of the intravenous line. However, during the procedure you may feel weightless as if being lifted from the earth on the wings of angels. This is normal. Because the God Pipe is constructed from replicas of Holy material, it will produce sensations of being called Home by the Almighty. Hours after the euphoria of your procedure, you may experience headaches, joint pain, feelings of great loss followed by a period of depression lasting for up to a month.
What to Expect
MRIs are only performed during months that contain the letter M, so appointments are scheduled before Autumn.
Your MRI will be scheduled for 6 AM but the doors to the facility will not open until 6:30. Dress for the weather. Do NOT converse with other patients waiting outside under any circumstance.
You will fill out a lengthy questionnaire. Your answers will be compared against the results of your test so take time to carefully consider your response to each question on the form.
You will be ordered to disrobe and wear surgical scrubs with the texture of sandpaper. This helps exfoliate the skin, making it more transparent for the imaging process. Your clothes and valuables will be stored in a private locker. Be sure to leave a copy of your living will and emergency contact information among your possessions in case something happens to you inside the God Pipe.
The imaging center is kept at a low temperature to protect the valuable instruments. Uncomfortable cold is also necessary to suppress the brain waves associated with hope.
You will be secured to a moveable bed. Your ears will be covered to protect your hearing from the voices of Divinity, the sound of popping bones and the lamentations of your soul.
You must remain still during the entirety of your procedure. Motion can distort the images of your true nature, internal jelly and capacity to conform. Do NOT move.
You must keep your mind clear. Thinking can distort your thoughts as they are being recorded. Do NOT think.
Prayers cannot be heard from within the God Pipe.
An MRI can last from around 15 minutes to an hour. The more you move or think, the longer the procedure will take. The seriousness of your illness and levels of compliance are reflected in the length of your MRI and will be included in the results.
Results
The results of your MRI will be interpreted by a special technician called a CSR or Corporal Spiritual Reader. His findings will be sent to your doctor who will discuss with you the best course of treatment. A copy of the results will also be sent to the Bureau of Citizen Behavior for assessment. A bureau agent will contact you within 6 weeks to assign a case worker and provide information on where to report for further questioning and evaluation.
Disclaimer: none of the information on this page is real. Please visit a site like Medical News Today for information on MRIs.
John Truelove 