Beagle in The City #293

Ethan: (steps in something…) what the?? Ugh…FRANCIS! Francis Cash! Get in here!
Francis: What did I do?
Ethan: Why did you not use your litter box? Oh my god, it’s everywhere…this is carpet man.
(Starts to clean it up.)
Wait, this isn’t sh$t this is olives…
Simon: Yeah, I wouldn’t eat those, they’re gross and disgusting.
Francis: Atleast he tries new tings.
Simon: the cheeses were good tho.
Ethan: man, I was saving these…

Francis Cash #20

Francis: Good luck at the job today…I know what it’s like in the City….Covid and the weather…

Ethan: Would you look at this wise guy, Simon? I’ve been working every day for a year and he knows what it’s like out there…

Francis: I wish I could go with you.

Ethan: I tell you what, I’ll stay here and you can go to the job.

Francis: cough cough …I don’t think my pet deposit covers that. . .

The Works of Man

The bible says somethin’ about the Holy Spirit leaving the earth near the last days…how hard it is for man after that.

That’s what I thought of when I saw her…

Her face was black and not even blue, just broken and taped back together…

She couldn’t even wince from the pain of walking, she was stiff like our grandfather…and stood like a crow bar.

She was 25.

When we left the hospital, we went to get her things. From the garbage excuse of a trailer, he was supposed to be at work…

But I guess that’s how these things and men and the way of young love goes…

They’re accountable for nothing…not even an 11 dollar an hour job.

I remember her clothes had black patches of sweat and mold in them.

They smelled of cigarettes

The kitchen table was dirty from the residue.

The place smelled of that smell you only get from a broken refrigerator…

I opened it just to make sure ,

There in the center of all that rotten was last nights box of take out…

“Ugh What the hell…”

I had to find the bathroom and quick

There were holes in the wall all the way down the hall…I turned in to wash my face….

The shower was black and molded

The water was off…

I kicked the lid to the toilet open

Before I started vomiting

It hit me in the face like a train

No water

Packed full of shit

——

Why the hell did she stay here?

He kicked her around and around

——-

He came stumbling in angrier than a starved dog…

Knife in his hands

Gun in his belt

I grabbed the knife by the blade and kicked him across the room

He took off in his car, but didn’t make it far…

He wrestled for a while with the locals and kicked a few down

He drew his gun

And started cursing about my sister and how he owned her

There was a fence he had crashed into

A tamping pole or rod leaning against it

I picked it up and ran it through his foot

“Shut up for once in your life.”

He cried all the way to jail.

I kept thinking about that verse

All of her hurts

Why men do what we do

And what kind of man

Can live with that?

Maybe it’s a different kind of evil…

My father killed men in the war

And his father too

I thought about that as I set another charge on a tree.

——

He was spitting and cursin’ as we brought him down in the thicket.

“You can’n’t kill me! They’re gunna fine out ‘bout it! Yew stupid idgit! She’s MINE I will have what’s MINE!

Married before GOD and everybody ! “

“Oh I’m not going to kill you…God might…but I won’t …the wolves might…but me? I’m just going to hurt you…if you die…it’s up to a higher power than me…now the sheriff, he’s gonna think you ran again, You know, like you did my sister…when you made her run and you played your little hunting games?….you better run…”

I raised my gun…and the headlights…

He made it a few paces I guess…

The last I heard were some obscenities

Then I charged the blasts

the trees exploded around him

I thought about her and the Holy Ghost and the war and the 4th of July…

Out of mind

There’s a man

Going around

Passing out promises

Gold and silver too

But the success

Never reaches down this far

No,

They won’t follow you down

And every woman I know

Works harder than two men

And they love

And they bleed

And they sew up our needs

And like Cash said

“When the man comes around”

Well, they won’t follow you down

So we fight

And we survive

Even when our paychecks

Barely make it through

What else are we to do

The silver and gold

Doesn’t come down this far

But they pass it around

With promises too

But they won’t follow you down

—-///

And I

I can’t write

My head is filled with clouds

I try to sit

But I can’t breathe

I watch the colour in the trees

And I think

About the dumpster on the side of the road where we used to get shoes and we used to get books…

And I think

About time

I hope I’ve used mine

Well

I think about the old man

Who lived in a school bus

And had a teenager for a wife

Her eyes said she had escaped something worse

A sort of curse

But I was too young to understand

Now, I think as I try to write, what good am I? What good am I?

If we can’t listen

If we look away

What good am I

And what good have I done …

A clouded head is part of Crohn’s

Just like the ache in the bones

The shouting stomach

The anxiety and the depression

I write about it but I can’t talk about it

And you’ll never see it

I guess

We all are just stories in the end

And we want what we want

And we say it sets us apart

And we expect others to know

But part of us stays on the road

Because even we don’t know…

And all we have is time…

The Dustbowl

Let hell be barred

His saved ones

Know his voice

And he calls them by name….

Somewhere

In the deepest darkest corners

Of the mind

We’ve lost ourselves

And an entire generation

We’ve been so lost

With politics

Politicians

What is truth?

Suddenly faith

Becomes stranger than fiction

Four years flies by and we forget how to think

God forbid I fail to pray for you

We say Jesus could never be!

He was murdered, he was a good man, well meaning, but he died.

We forget the earth trembled to take him…

We forget the power…of the blood…

We forget that he was not relaxing

Writing a memoir for those three days…

He was in hell…

Taking the keys ….

Jesus said,

In case you forget,

“I freely lay down my life.”

Let that sink in

“And so I am free to take it up again. No one takes it from me. I lay it down of my own free will. I have the right to lay it down; I also have the right to take it up again. I received this authority personally from my Father.”

We want something that feels good

We want something that looks good

But meanwhile the world is confused and burning

Because no one is standing in the gap

Reaching across the breach

Shaking them lose

We have no Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednegos

who are cast into the furnace but do not burn

We have no Elijah

Praying

So there is no

fire of the LORD to fall and burn up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and the water in the trenches…

There has got to be someone

in this land

Who like Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Understands

It’s the world we leave for our children

And

“If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction.”

There is a faith

A calm assurance like David and Jonathan, saying perhaps God will give us favor today…

“I know in whom I have believed, and am fully persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.”

We want what we want and we want it now.

We want to talk about the end times

But we haven’t even got enough oil. To make it past noon…

Let Hell be barred, God be right and Everyman a liar. Give us someone with a fire in their bones.

God spoke and put flesh on dry bones ,

Supplied enough for the Israelites in the desert and lead them with a pillar of fire…

But we can’t even wear a mask.

And we think we are prepared

For such a time as this

We think we are ready

For such a time as this

We get so angry

Over religion

And politics

And

We have all our faith in one man

In Washington

And expect him to meet us where we are and fix this nation….

Maybe it’s not Washington

Maybe it’s not school

Maybe it’s not suicide

Maybe it’s not streaming

Maybe it’s not social media

Maybe it’s not your parents

Or your zip code

Or your salary

Maybe it’s because once upon a time

In Steinbeck’s dustbowl there was a people that knew his voice and could not be moved

And they were his saved ones

And he provided a way….

You can’t hit a target you can’t see…

But you can get up and start walking

And God can provide enough light

For just the next step

And that will make the journey…

God told Samuel to stop mourning….

And he anointed David….

But it was another ten years before he became king…at the age of 30…

Your chapter is not your story.

Maybe the same God that caused a great bang and split the atom and bled the universe that is still expanding

And lay down his life just to raise it up again after wrestling the serpent in hell for three days….to claim victory over the sting of death…

Who turns and looks upon you when you pray ….

The same God that called David

The same God

Who prayed until his sweat became blood….

He is preparing something better…

But we can’t function without WiFi

And we want to put our trust in politicians

And we want to put our trust in systems that fade away

And we want what we want

And we don’t even know what that is

But we want it right now….

I have faith, lord, help our unbelief….

Language

We were sleepwalking

Passing each other

Like two ghosts haunting the same

House

New bedclothes

New furnishings

Plates

But no appetite

No desire

——

2020 on the forecast

Nothing we planned came to pass

We are frightened

By nothing

Flattened by morning

——

What is appetite?

Craving

Look me in the eye

Your skin

Your sin

Look me in the eyes

You’ll see my poetry

Waiting all night

To see you

It’s not masked by this year

It’s brought back

To the base value

The foundation

Remove the complexities

The trivial

——

Appetites

Cravings

Passions

Your skin

Your lips

We don’t have to move

Through time

Waiting

For right moments

Perfect places

They don’t exist

Our bodies moving together

There are still some things

We can say

Without speaking

-regardingsamuel.com