crack - 11. bill and william

by nick nelson

part 11 of ?

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ali walked down the street. he did not look up at the tall buildings beside him or at the sky above him. he had nowhere to go and all the time in the world to get there. he had been disappointed by bill smith’s indifference to his new identities, but not surprised. it was the story of his life. he wondered what was he to do with the rest of his day. he decided to do what he did best - annoy somebody. at the park, or at a cafeteria or coffee shop? he looked up at he sky. it looked like it might rain. the 236 cafe was five blocks away, but he had a good chance of finding one or two of his favorite adversaries there. * meanwhile, back at the great western education and entertainment company, bill smith finished the last of his scheduled clients, a soft spoken woman named annabelle armstrong, and waited for detective constantine or some other policeperson to show up and interview him about william wilson. hopefully about william wilson and not about anything else. sergeant giao friday, not detective emperor constantine showed up at two minutes after four o’clock. mister bill smith? that’s me. i am detective friday. here is my i d. bill glanced at the i d to be polite. pleased to meet you. have a seat. i have some questions about your tenant, wiliam wilson. bill sat back in his chair behind his desk. yes, i assumed as much, detective constantine thought i should interview you because i had interviewed wlliam wilson, and he had not. whatever. so that we could be sure that you and william wilson were not the same person. oh, that makes sense. i guess. what do you want to know about wiilliam? for a start, how close are you to him? not close at all. i hardly see him except when he pays his rent every month. which he always pays in person? yes. so he knows your schedule? he knows i usually get home at a certain time. suppose you are not at home? he comes back the next day. he never slips the cash under your door? no. he comes back the next day. i am sorry to begin with might seem trivial questions, but i just want to get clear in my mind what seems a curious situation. i understand. have you dealt with the police very often before? yes, in my job i deal with the police quite often. friday looked around the small office. which was not much bigger than a cubicle. really? and what exactly do you do? to be continued

bust out

by nick nelson

the bird flew over the mountain the mountain fell into the sea the snake crawled out of the volcano because it wanted to be free head for the hills, the monkey cried as the river burst into flames but the butterfly stayed behind playing a waiting game the angel gabriel rode his horse across the icy waste and put up signs on all the trees with his homemade paste everything was in confusion except in the original swamp where business proceeded as usual and bigfoot went clomp clomp zoroaster and gilgamesh sat beneath a tree the wind howled in the branches because they could not agree many millennia later genghis khan surveyed the scene and shed a tear at sunset for what might have been

mamie and phil

by nick nelson

mamie jones was a sober sort the kind who always held the fort she lived next door to phil smith whom no one wanted much to do with mamie lived on a small pension and had a short span of attention phil was a dreamer a sad inadequate schemer they both tried to stay the course as impersonal historical forces whirled them around like balls of dust in the law of gravity they placed their trust mamie looked out the window at the moon phil hummed a subliminal tune in the clutches of the international spiders and latte-sipping low riders a trillion messages from space bounced off their upturned faces but black was the sky to which they had no reply they never knew reach others names which some might think a shame but no need to cry in the whether no why

at the old ball game

by horace p sternwall

i woke up this morning and fell out of my chair shined my shoes and combed my hair because i had curious dream floating down the old mill stream the king of france and the queen of spain took me out to the old ball game the sun was shining and the weather was grand and we were the only people in the stands except for the crackerjack vendor she was a solid sender and kept us all amused because she had nothing to lose after a while the king’s hat went out of style and the queen began to yawn because she could not keep her mojo on or maybe it was the other way around in my travels i have found that those complain the most are confidence men or ghosts the band struck up a tune we got through the afternoon the clouds were white and the sky was blue the yankees beat the red sox, 3 - 2

near dream poem

by rhoda penmarq

buddy sat beneath a tree iskander wept beside the sea all they wanted was the key to the magic door of stagger lee mom baked a brownie with a frown, she heard the front door slam like raspberry jam on the flat side of the moon king arthur hummed a tune as he waited to proclaim the commencement of the big game to decide once and for all the size and shape of the ball which would be used to choose whose dog was best this was the test i wanted to be discreet and got up from my seat everybody booed they were really quite rude but just for a start i forgave them in my heart

the big toss

by bofa xesjum

biob smith (let it go) that’s funny after the ball was over make my day that’s really funny queen victoria perhaps you would like to reconsider that statement davy crockett just because my hair is curly you slay me (old fashioned sarcastic expression meaning, that’s not funny) let it go there you go again, he replied wearily charles lindbergh sorry to bother you daniel boone ran through the woods carrying a long rifle please toledo ohio his majesty will see you now pope innocent iii those flowers are pretty, where did you get them? call me when you are ready to negotiate i said i was sorry was that the doorbell? put that thing away before you hurt somebody at last we approach the end montezuma refrigerator

porch

by horace p sternwall

sometimes at night when the the stars are shining and the moon is full i sit on the porch the bats fly a dog howls and i think about things about how this is the greatest planet in the universe and the greatest country in the world and all the great heroes of the old days of little david and samson and delilah and george washington never telling a lie especially at valley forge and shermans march to the sea and lincoln shot by john wilkes booth and davy crockett at the alamo and joshua at the battle of jericho and christopher columbus and magellan and sir francis drake and captain cook eaten by cannibals and montezuma and ponce de leon and barbara frietchie and jesse james and robin hood and genghis khan riding across the steppes and teddy roosevelt charging up san juan hill and remember the maine and the titanic and it all really happened just as sure as i am sitting here a wandering boy i never been nowhere much except right here at home but my mind wanders