clean,bright,and white.

don’t worry. you’re going to be fine.

Published in: on June 1, 2008 at 10:57 am  Leave a Comment  

Goodnight, Saigon

I think we’re coming home tomorrow, least that’s what they’re telling us. But they’ve told us these things before. It’s not so much that they lie, but seeing as it takes so long to prep an evac in this sweatbox shit hole, that by the time the moment actually comes, we’re needed again. It’s an odd way to keep up moral. I don’t blame them, no more then I blame myself for going down and signing up for this crap. I tell you, it’s an odd feeling not knowing why you are somewhere. It’s not like wandering off on purpose and suddenly realizing you have no idea where you are. I know where I am, just not why. Luckily, I seldom have time to reflect on such musings anymore though, with so few of us left, the workload has become nearly unbearable. Since we lost Frankie on Tuesday, I’ve taken up most of the radio duties. Why we even have it is a mystery to me, no one ever answers. Sometimes I wonder if it is simply a comfort tool, something we lug around with no particular purpose than to make us believe that someone, anyone, is at the other end of the line. If we don’t get out of here as planned, I think I’ll make a call next week. It would be nice to talk to someone else on my birthday, someone not knee deep in bodies and covered in mud. Someone sitting by a cozy fire in a robe and slippers. I hope someone answers. After all, turning eighteen is a pretty big deal. I feel I should share it with someone. Anyone.

Published in: on May 12, 2008 at 4:36 am  Comments (1)  

One Last Waltz

Guess they weren’t shittin’ me when they said the white man can’t walk that path. Some small part of me was hoping they were bluffing, but damn, hell, well, guess that little bastard was right. Ain’t got the haunches, he said. Wanted to show him, Belle. Really did. But that was before this crushed ankle, before the broken collar bone. Long before this snarling beast came to start circling me, knowing I’m the only thing he has to eat for the next month, being as corpulent as I have become since you dismissed me from our pretty and perfect little happy world. Thought I might find us out here, but I only found a darker space than I had left. Oh cruel irony. But realize that there is a smile on my face, knowing there will be better arms that I will be led into very soon. Please don’t cry for me, Belle. I never gave you that honor. Pray the angels each light a candle for me and make bright and clear my path. I feel that final corridor may be rather dark…

Published in: on April 25, 2008 at 10:24 am  Leave a Comment  

Hold Those Horses

My Senor,

Please hold the, eh, avoidance to this alarm you are sending. We cannot restock as soon as we had planned. The guns we agreed upon will be in your hands shortly, however, the cannons will not and cannot arrive as planned. I understand your need to, procure, if you will, these cannons as soon as possible. But our factories down here are slow. Our funding is minimal. I am, I believe, lucky to have even a computer for which to type this message. I will, as you said, “beat those little bitches until they bleed out their ears”, but i must maintain there are only so many children in our area. Further recuitment is necessary i assume. Give me one month, sir, and Tijuana will be ours for the taking. From there LA, from there, the entire west coast. Your plan is still active, but please, I beg of you, more time. Hold your horses. Time is on our side.

– Cpt. Largo Enriue

Published in: on April 19, 2008 at 9:08 am  Leave a Comment  

Let Me Appologize

I don’t get a lot of fun you see, just the cord thats left for me.

I tied the string, I looped the knot,

I don’t get a lot but swing and rot,

but with you, man, I’m glad I’m not. 

Quite sad I never knew your name, but at least I hoisted up your fame.

– the hang man

Published in: on April 17, 2008 at 9:53 am  Comments (1)  

A Regrettable Situation

From The Desk Of: Police Commissioner Aldwin Green. 

CO: Head of Sanitation Ciro Emptine.

This is a matter I would rather discuss in person or over the phone, however, seeing you apparent disregard at any attempt at meeting in person and the recent rash of phone taps in and around my office, I feel I must type my concern. First, let me put to rest my concern that the finding of any of the latest bodies found in your care have anything to do with you personally. Nor you faculty. We, as an office of the law, merely need to know and respond to the appearence of any corpses that may turn up beneath our streets. 

Your decision to keep said bodies in your vicinity and/or care is in strict violation of both city heath ordinances and police mandate. Actuary evidence will be reprimanded within 24 hours. If force, if necessary. 

(Side Note, To Be Stricken From Record) 

Let us talk candidly now, Ciro. I have long supported your dreams about bringing her back. I know what she meant to you, dear god, she was my mother too. But taking the remains that a serial killer has flushed down our own city’s toilets? You can’t be serious. Let this one go. I know better ways of procuring cadavers, and you know that. Why be so careless? 

Published in: on April 17, 2008 at 9:08 am  Leave a Comment  

Code 119 : Jumper

  • Captain Rye, still there?
  • Signing in, Colonel Malt. — Target seems unresponsive. Shall we proceed?
  • Unsure. Lt. Water, what is your bearing?
  • Low to high state of emergency, sir. Subject unwilling or unable to escape.
  • I asked your bearing, not your state, Lt. 
  • Kitchen, sir. 
  • Your job was to pull her down from said situation, Lt. Water.
  • She wanted nothing to do do with me. She kept asking for Captain Rye. 
  • Sir, this could be a problem.
  • Sir, I need you here now. 
  • She’s on the edge! Back away, ma’am. Please back away!
  • Captain! She’s gonna jump! Oh heaven! And it appears she’s taken Colonel Malt with her!
  • Fuck it, Lt. We’re all in your world now.
Published in: on April 12, 2008 at 9:48 am  Leave a Comment  

Not Tonight

Hey You – Guess I got sentimental today, for no reason. Tried to sign up for facebook, but that “add, email, poke” thing got a little too much. No thanks. Not my jive. I swore to god you were in the bar tonight. She looked exactly like you. Minus 10 pounds. (ha) But my heart constricted ten times smaller than it did when Bambi’s mom died. It kind scared me. It went all a flutter. Heart-attack-style. Must be nice to know you can still do that to a boy. Your’s once but never again … a

Published in: on April 12, 2008 at 9:19 am  Leave a Comment  

8 Paces

Nice shot, gunslinger. … but I… I’m not gripping this swirling, flowing, and creeping. This crimson pool sinking back into the earth. These heavenly smells are… are leaving me as a cool breeze topples… this buzzing… a fly feasting on my exposed brain. I finally feel horizontal with the globe, her mysteries ultimately shown. Your wager was on the hardened criminal. Me. Why aim to the head? You’ll get the money, but I’ll get the laugh. They all said I was quicker than most. But too slow… today. Now? No, not now. I still have eight paces… till I’m born… again.

Published in: on April 11, 2008 at 9:46 am  Leave a Comment  

Star Singing

Dearest left star on the right. Can’t walk, can’t speak, can’t type, must sleep. I’m sure you’d understand. Don’t worry though. I’ll be there watching you tomorrow morning when no one else knows you’re there except you and I. Sleep tight, my friend.

Published in: on April 10, 2008 at 9:04 am  Comments (1)