Monday, May 24, 2010

Sasquatch Summer Natural Sausage

What is Sasquatch Summer Natural Sausage?

Let me answer you in the voice of a boy, barefoot and free, running through the green cover lit with drops of burning, dazzling gold, crashing through the brush, splashing in the creek, flying through the trees, scratched and natural with kind summer bruises. Stark naked, actually. Stained with berries and mud and mischief. Howling.

What Makes Sasquatch Summer Natural Sausage Special?

Tan and lean from swimming in the creek, we’d laze about with nothing to do but dares. We’d discover new treasures on our own. Nature was our laboratory. We’d pull back a leaf to answer the hum of a sweet buzzing sound. The hive was our discovery, dripping with luscious honey. I don’t know if it was a dare or just plain hunger of not having eaten the night before, but our rocks felled the hive and we ate the honey with stung and swollen fingers and lips.

That night we lay under the stars, the granite sheen of the galaxy as bright and clear as the rocks in the creek, the bees stingers still singing in our veins, our breathing light and even, tears of pain and joy, rapt at the miracle of the universe. Where the hell were our parents?

Where can I get Sasquatch Summer Natural Sausage?

Sometimes I dream of the dark, cool cupboard in our last house, the one that didn’t have a road or windows or water, hidden by the tall, tall grass. It was like our clubhouse, only all the time. We didn’t pay any rent, just stayed there until Mr. Wonder came back, came back with bags of groceries, snacks and those men, those dirty, cussing men. Mommy only had the one summery dress that had looked so special on her thin shoulders and told us we were going to have another brother or sister again, for real this time, and it was going to be special because an angel and some buttons of mescal had told her so.

But first I had to find it. I had to go find it out in the dark where Daddy had buried it. I had to dig it with my hands.

Sasquatch Summer Natural Sausage is available wherever natural foods are sold.

Monday, May 10, 2010

What a Story Is

So what’s a story, what is it? Basically, it’s a carnival ride. The reader is the mark. They gives you they money and they takes the ride. An’ it’s all fun, it’s all whoo-hoo and tee-hee until them lug nuts slip and your story collapses in a heap of blood twisted metal because you didn’t assemble your story too damn sober, that's for sure.

So whaddya do? Are you gonna do the man thing, man up and says to theys family and all: I am sorry about your loved ones and all. My poppa always told me I ain’t no good and when I look deep inside that’s all I feel. I caused death and pain in this world, but that was an accident, much like my birth. Furthermore, I gotta theory about why this happens and my low self-esteem and self-medications and this is something Jesus tole me when he accepted my application.

No. Light out to the river like you always do. Sleep under the stars and let everybody forget you. Let the dead bury the dead.

Because that’s what a story is.