one-derment

Dada Monologue returns! (see previous posts where I introduce this style)

Green tiles swept through my stranded island dweller not to be upstaged by this harmful wonderkind. Hence why is orange now the favoured mastiff of a generation? Trains glide by and yet my word stays unmarred but unpublished and if this flower gives the lint of weeping to my hat then all is taken in jest. Here is where licking enters into a contract with the season just exiting to the streets down below should you see him, say I once knew nothing. But should you speakeasy to the wind then bring the rains of heaven and Post to the green light beyond the dock to where the bonds are. Green laid out from post to pillar and stern to stem but all I saw was forged faces to clown around the vented space.
Green they were but I saw only melancholy and the strain of fire that burned this particular brightness.

table for one

ahhhgggr. this is the life it really is let's see...where was i? oh ya. i remember the last time she came to visit... the door swung open and in she walked, with that slow sauntering sway of hers. the room would light up just anticipating her return and everything around me would hum just a little more audibly and god i miss her now. why i didn't tell her what she wanted to hear i'll never know - should have told her i'd stop messing around with those mittens they meant nothing to me. now all i do is sit on the corner smoking like it's going out of style and eating to kill myself to last one day longer to feel something, if only regret. but perhaps she'll call and so i wait at the corner i last saw her at, coming out of this drug store carrying her all purpose flour and the gatorade she loved so much. has she asked about me?

one-der bread

i told ya honey and i aint gonna repeat it you is livin on borrowed time she said to me as we walked through the aisles in the store and i could see her bright red hair and rainbow sweater screamin out at me where i stood at the milk fridge i phoned him today Shalina i told him to stop comin over and messin me up and eatin my food and what does he say he says you aint gettin rid of me that easy baby doll but i know you was gonna be all up in my face if i backed down but you know he does the sweetest thang when we go out he takes a bite first of whatever we is eatin and then lets me taste it after him aint that love sweets you tell me why you always so down on him but Shalina just keeps readin labels and shakin her head and goin uh uh girl you dont listen and its gonna be too late he already movin his tools in yo garage whas next his dirty sox and then we see some chocolate on sale and look at eacother and we know is gonna be all right

one o'clock

Nathan: Shhhhh! Shh. Just lay low man! We don't have far to go...

Blackie: I don't think this is such a good idea, Nathan.

Nathan: Look Blackie, we both agreed, we're getting a job and we're going to find a new place to live. Nothing wrong with the plan Blackie.

Blackie: I don't think you're listening to me - Nathan. This is as far as the train will go. It's the end of the line and we're now at Finch...do you really want to live on FINCH!!??

Nathan: ok ok, don't panic - there are options. We can stay on the train until we figure it out.

Blackie: Stay on the train. Nathan. I don't think you're hearing me. The next wave of crazy teenagers is due any minute now... oh god they're hear. They're probably going to set us on fire.

Nathan: Blackie you always exaggerate - always. Everything's fine. It's not even ...

Blackie: what?? not even what? ONE O'CLOCK??? Is that what you were going to say?
Because it is ...it is ...right now ...1 minute to one o'clock!

Nathan: Hmmmph. So it is. You are right my friend. It IS one o'clock. Ok so plan B.

Blackie: Plan B? what the hell is plan B?

Nathan: We get off now, at Davisville. You'll love it, it's French.