crack - 11. bill and william

by nick nelson

part 11 of ?

for previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here

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

f-23

by bofa xesjum

f-23 was a lonely soul who in society played no role but was subject to ho ho ho by those who were always on the go but was f-23 really lonely? it would seem thy only f-23 and companion - 2 knew what was true f-23 stood in the line to which the group which was assigned 43rd place took up space looking neither left nor right suddenly a great light flashed on the screen it was neither red not green or blue or yellow or smooth or mellow or a blast from the distant or recent past down by the old mill stream they sold hot dogs and ice cream to the high rollers and chumps who were there to ride the bumps as the masters looked on but maybe they are gone to their reward in a cloud with a flashing sword

ready

by bofa xesjum

ready set go jerry hated joe for no particular reason because strawberries were not in season the sun began to shine after a glass of wine the bear broke into the tower after a spring shower the warden closed his book and decided to take a look around the grounds but did not like what he found he summoned a committee from the country and the city but no one got out of bed because the inmates had all fled jerry still hates joe it was all a long time ago strawberries are out of style after going the extra mile do not come any closer with your mimosa say what you have to say and be on your way

come back

by bofa xesjum

come back in a million years everything will be the same the world will be ruled by idiots who know nothing 99 percent of the human race will just want to live their lives with what is rightfully theirs 1 percent of the human race will own 200 percent of the wealth the other 1 percent will start a new religion every year your mom will be the nicest person who ever lived dad will sit in his favorite chair staring into space until it is time for the game men will stare at women women will laugh at men dogs will bark cats will sleep ants will crawl birds will fly butterflies will flit the world will be coming to an end

cleopatra

by rhoda penmarq

i wrote this poem i wrote it today i am a person and i go my way roses are red i do not know what they are maybe they are mountains maybe they are stars violets are blue that is my favorite color my fangs have grown sharp but my brain is duller my crown is gold i wear it in style the sky is black as i sail down the nile

poem

by rhoda penmarq

down by the river down by the stream a-2 and b-3 shared a curious dream the white star was a mountain the green star was a toad the detective hummed a purple tune as he drove down the road a dictionary filled with words on the floor beside the bed whispered to the human and filled up its head today is the first day and also the last i had an important message but its time has passed

the lost

by horace p sternwall

albert brown was the loneliest man in town betty cox looked good in an evening gown chuck davis was ready but rough daisy edwards had the right stuff ed frank shook hands with a firm grip fran green went on cruise ships george harris was the mayor’s son helen irby always carried a gun ike jones as always in jail his mom, jenny kelly, sometimes paid his bail ken lane was a lawyer for hire lucy millwood was a ball of fire mike nelson kept the accounts nellie orvis had lot of bounce oscar purvis owned a bank or two peggy quigley always wore blue quentin rowley kept to himself ruby simmons kept knicknacks on a shelf sid tucker was a bit of a bore trudy underwood always knew the score these people do not sound like much fun don’t worry, we are almost done uncle bud is coming around the bend with money in his pocket for vanessa to spend willie williams has a dollar in his jeans except for that, he has no visible means young zeke adams stands on the corner he may be a loser, but he ain’t no foreigner that is enough of that put on your hat put on yout coat and leave alfred a note

haiku 3

by horace p sternwall

bird that can not fly just sitting on the green lawn for whatever why

haiku 2

by horace p sternwall

the fried egg was cold the sausage warm and friendly the coffee was sad

haiku

by horace p sternwall

a butterfly lives from three to eleven weeks hopefully enjoys

crack - 10. ali

by nick nelson

part 10 of ?

for previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here

good morning, ali. it is afternoon, mister smith. thank you, ali. i stand corrected. i had something else on my mind, and it must have wandered a bit. something else on your mind besides my visit? that is not very promising. promising or not, let’s get on with it. and of course, i am obliged to inform you yet again that you may, if you like, address me as bill, and not as mister smith. yes, mister smith. ; so how have you been? have you added to or altered any of your identities since i saw you last? yes, loads. how about you? i have not changed, except for being six months older. let’s get on with it. why, are you in a hurry? i have a schedule to get through. yes, because you are a lizard brained bureaucrat in a dead end job passing judgment on people who are even more oppressed than yourself. and you a tiresome little troll. now tell me about these loads of new identities you have altered or added. i have them all recorded here. great. would you like to leave them here and we can discuss them on your next visit? are you serious? by that time i will probably have a whole new batch. of course. what was i thinking? who is up first? momo, a poor wood gathrerer in the hills of gondwanaland… this is mono, identity number 9560-439-43w? yes. momo has joined an outlaw band… the afternoon wore on. bill would have liked to finish quickly with ali, to prepare himself for his visit from detective constantine or some other policeperson, but he could not tell that to ali. next