Package Part 1

The white noise of conversation in a coffee shop washes over me as I wait. The damned contact is running late and there is only so long I can stand the chatter of people, I want to return to my home, that safespot where I feel that I belong. Out here among the people I feel more detached with each conversation about musicians and the weather. I would happily drive a knife into their ears for a second of quite.

Finally the reason I am here is dropped on the small table I have taken. Followed by the courier who has been making me wait, he looks like he has been through some trouble, but that is why I have paid him to do this for me. I don't like feeling unsafe in my interactions. Here I am safer then where he had to pick up the package. The courier places both hands on the table and looks at me, “There is an extra delivery charge for this one Mr. Smith.” The fake grin under her blue hair and eyes, is brittle only there so that she doesn't punch me and break my nose.

Taking a sip of my coffee I look over the rim of the cup and ask “Was the package damaged in anyway?” Brushing off he challenge to me, she isn't the first to have these difficulites and won't be the last. The package is all that is important to me. And my collections, this is the last one I have to worry about for a short while. Her hand close on my package and draws it towards her. “No the package is fine but I can't say the same for me, What is in box?”

Had she open the package, I quickly put down my cup and stared at the package. Brown paper was kind of dirty, but that was to be expected. The tape seems not to be tampered with. Seeing my interest the courier puts the package into her bag and puts that between her legs. Dear lord a group of bitches are talking about how drunk they got over the weekend and what they are going to do this coming up weekend. God damn it do they not realizes what treasure someone is withholding from me here?

Sweat drips from my neck down to the collar of my shirt. “Fine what do you want extra then?” I blurt out, my hands opening and close as if I had the package in my hands. I tug at my sleeve and slowly straighten my tie, I pulled out my money clip. The raised eyebrow, worries me. “What you wanted extra money right?” She shakes her head and looks me in the eye. “Boss, I want to see what is in the box.” I nearly fall out of my chair with this request. Crap she would have to come back home with me if this was to happen.

E-mail

Message sent to multiple identities
lost to aether of name
symbols that have become people
people become numbers to be reached
meaning shorted to save time
but all is lost to say more

Drunken rambling

The black ink falls on white paper
Like blood on a clean sheet
Dripping from slit wrists
As like the words fall from my mind
if spoken they would fall
and shatter on the wind.

Sweet wine draws them out fast
striking without thought
Black White Grey does not matter the font
Handwritten, Typed, or Spoken
Lost to the unclear either.

I cast them out for you to see
shared if thous will
released to the wilds of culture
hidden in this smaller corner I call my own
shouted at passer-by loud and proud
FUCK YOU sober thought
Listen to my words and fear
that their meaning is lost to you.

Lonely

I find myself alone again, Woman sleep with me
Then their path takes them into other arms
Leaving me not even picking up pieces
For we never made anything to break
Only some physical activity and talk
I am left wondering if it is me that drives them away.

Calgary

Everyone can fake the cowboy for 10 days a year
The rest of the time most wear a suit and tie, Oil is serious biz
Faking heart and soul the city drives those who have both out.
Left is an oily core surrounded by heartless areas of wealth.
No taste beyond cost, No flavor except others, Faking taste.
Even hip teens wear what magazines tell them to.
Nothing that sets us apart from a preformed city scape.
Even the rebels take their style from those before them.

Fixing a meal

Pots, Pans, Grease.
Meat, Spice, Rub.
Oven, Hot, Temp 350.
Potatoes, Olive Oil, Herb.
Salad, Fresh Greens, Bowl.
Knife, Fork, Plate.
Friends, Food, Laughter.
Drinks, Cookies, Coffee.
Coat, Shoes, Done.

Sleeping Muse.

Hey I know not many people read this, My guess is one lonely bot. I am writing but nothing I can post here. It is mostly work that might lead to something or work for a Larp I am in.

I guess my muse is sleeping right now for the winter.