Type-ical

Rakeem wouldn't pass the 40 just yet. He held it back from kim, changed his mind, and told her to open her mouth. Its' tilted contents trickled out between the slim gap stretched across her teeth. Eereeno watched on and knew Rakeem was making moves, trying to get Kim under his arm. Jake got through telling some joke and Mary, Ben, and Christine laughed it up with him. Kim snatched at the bottle to take it from Rakeem and they fought just enough to spill some on the couch. No worries, it'd be out on the curb tomorrow. Content he had talked enough, Jake lit a cigarette and leaned forward in his chair. He wore a white wife beater, baggy tan pants, blond hair hung low enough to cover his pale blue eyes and his golden chain sparkled through the ashen wisps. Ben texted back to his mystery friend. Christine tried to see who it was again and failed but got on Ben enough that in leaning away the cell slipped from his thick fingers and scattered across the floor. Jake considered grabbing it but just leaned back to clear room and inhaled. He was trying to quit but with friends he felt like relaxing. Eereeno grabbed the cell and held it above Ben, too squat to reach. He pretended to read it as he held it up in the air.
"Ooo! Cheating on Becky-Ray? Now I have a chance at her."
Eereeno mock-smoothed his sleeveless vest's bottom. With a pink tie he tucked under its' diamonds-and-lines pattern he already looked sharp. Ben thought this was his chance to get his phone back but his reactions were too slow. Christine peeked over his shoulder and told Eereeno to show it to her. He feigned giving it over but let Ben take it back.
"Sorry he was too fast for me."
"C'mon Ben what's it say?"
Before he could give a non-answer his phone trilled with a new text. He went outside to answer it and Christine wasn't feeling snoopy enough to follow. Jake looked over and saw Kim sitting in Rakeem's lap. They were already making out.
"Hey Eereeno, where's an ash tray."
Eereeno got one for Jake. Then Jake started telling him a story...

So I was down at the store buying groceries. I try to outwait my roomates but I always get hungry before them. They eat atleast as much as I do of what I buy but whatever. So I'm standing in line and some kid holds up the cash register in front of me. When I say kid...you heading out"
Rakeem had come over and was standing by, waiting for Jake to finish or acknowledge him.
"We're heading out. Catch you later."
They said their goodbyes and Jake got back to his story.
Anyway I told you the place was getting robbed by a kid right? But I don't mean 'kid' like our age or some freshman. He didn't even look like his balls had dropped. I couldn't believe that shit. They called the cops but I rolled out of there before they showed up. The manager was trying to get everyone's attention so they'd say what they saw but I was like 'nope' and dipped. Imagine trying to explain that to a cop.

Ben returned to Mary explaining why she carried her piece.
"...when someone's going to try to rob me or worse. You guys might think you can handle yourselves but there's always a bigger guy."
"No I'm not saying I don't need it 'cause I'm a guy I mean like: I don't need that in my life. I don't want to kill"
"I don't want to kill anyone either but that doesn't stop someone from trying to kill me."
"Yeah, yeah I get what you're saying."
Mary put her pistol away as Jake nodded.
Ben plopped back down on the couch Rakeem and Kim had vacated. Eereeno looked back at him from their pair of chairs and the loveseat.
"What'd she want."
"Pshh." Ben just shook his head.
Mary started suggesting movies they should watch and after much deliberation they settled on one of the movies Rakeem's friend had bought in Thailand. The only English on its' label was, "Michael Bay".

Ben fell asleep during the movie. Christine crawled over and turned on his cell. The white light cast dramatic shadows from her pronounced cheekbones. It made her pale skin look luminescently white. After unlocking, with rapid and precise presses, she brought up Ben's text log. The latest message read:

From: Devilbitch
sry u feel that way. I still care about you.
CB#: Devilbitch
Received: Sun Sep 15, 1:42 am

They were all from Becky-Ray. The previous messages read:

From: Devilbitch
u made me cry. u know thats not true.
CB#: Devilbitch
Received: Sat Sep 14,9:42 am

From: Devilbitch
uac is the opposite coast. your a great guy and if we meet again youll still b my friend.
CB#: Devilbitch
Received: Sat Sep 14, 9:27 am

From: Devilbitch
I feel really shitty about this but you wont pickup. Is this how you want to do this?
CB#: Devilbitch
Received: Sat Sep 14, 8:26 am

From: Devilbitch
b better if we talked. call me when ur off work.
CB#: Devilbitch
Received: Sat Sep 14, 7:39 am

Jake awoke to the doors downstairs being kicked in. He waked up Eereeno and they went downstairs. Ben and Mary awoke to gunshots. Ben had just enough courage, creeping down the steps with Mary's gun, to overhear
"12000 Government Center Pkwy. Dispatch you said 12009! Send an ambulance to this address. We can't stay here."

Rakeem and Kim's mood went from very elevated in the morning to very low. They visited Eereeno in intensive care. Ben got an uncle's suite for Jake's funeral. Christine read the eulogy. The house and their friendship remained standing.

Imagine this Scene

Night taps on the pub's glass with weedy wooden fingers.
Fireflies and bestial eyes star the dark.
Never does the tender bar wood finish drying before a new sloshing inundates it.
Drunks have kids to come home to but they don't want to come home.
Wifes are waiting by the door.
Blame will be laid more than he so the drunk stays and chuckles.
Mates make the most mundane setting fun. When the next pitcher's done the old jokes will be new.
He hates his work but it's the only way he knows to make a living: with his hands, large and calloused. A man's hands.
He falls off his barstool and barfs.
He thinks over his failures, the people who've used him, stolen, whom he hasn't come back on.
He misses his father, mother, brothers, and sisters.
The owner, an old friend, calls the drunk's home.
He thinks on his debts. Everyone says he owes them. From bookies to creditors.
When he hits it big, he'll be set.
You have to hope for something.
His wife comes in, they carry him out, it's time to ride home.

Born with Crack Spoons in their Mouths

Illy ran as fast as he could to where Rad said to meet him. Underneath the Dearson’s pass overhang there was a dead body! Rad was ready with two long sticks when Illy got there and they commenced poking the body. Its’ flesh moved turgidly, as if there were a time delay between impact, contact, and motion. Annoyed flies scattered from its’ open, bloody wounds along with the increasingly thick stank.
Rad coughed and covered his mouth with his shirt.
“That’s rank!”
Illy nodded and changed the subject.
“We should try to find out whodunit!”
The boys dropped their sticks beside the corpse and ran to Illy’s home for a magnifying glass. They almost bumped into Tracey so she bitched at them,
“watch it you little shits!” in passing. Illy collected his magnifying glass, bubble pipe, and placed his toy hardhat on Rad’s head. They sprinted back out to the stiff. Tracey was at work on the corner she’d had employ since her period.
They looked all around the body but found nothing. There were broken bottles, spent cigarettes, junkfood bags roaches and ants collected crumbs from, rocks and shells. With a heave and a ho they turned the body over.
“Eww there’s something on my hands!”
Rad wiped his palms on Illy’s shirt and they engaged in a slap fight. Once the giggling settled down they returned to work. The dead man clutched flowers to his stomach.
“To Marie’s Potpourri!” announced Illy.
The boys raced each other to Marie’s Potpourri, the local flower shop.
“Hey Marie!”
“MARIEEEE!”
The boys called to the woman at the counter, an arms-length away.
“What is it boys?”
“You see a guy come in and buy some flowers?”
…
“Well, did you -huh!?”
“Are you boys looking for someone?”
“No we found someone ou-” Rad covered Illy’s mouth “that’s official investigator’s business ma’m. We just need you to answer the question”.
“Yes a guy came into my flower store and bought flowers.”
”I knew it! I knew it!” Rad was jumping up and down.
“Did he have any enemies?” Illy probed.
“Illy, I was just kidding. I sell flowers to gentlemen all the time; I don’t know who you boys are talking about. Now will you please go play, you’re holding up the line.”
The best friends forever turned to see three customers had patiently and silently qued behind them. They ran out of the store.
“Hey waitaminute!”
“You forget something?”-Illy
“You keep an eye on anyone coming out of here, they might be in on it. I’ll check our victim’s pockets.”
Rad ran back to the John Doe he’d found when stone-skipping. There was a wallet, chapstick, pocket knife, and ring in his pockets. Rad checked those cold clammy hands and found no ring on them.
Screech!
A black van nearly hit him turning the corner by the flower shop. Tracey ran over.
“Rad! That van just took Illy!”
Rad turned around and ran after it. His lungs burned, his clothes clung to him from sweat, his feet slapped the ground and he took the hat off because it was giving him a headache. The van pulled into the alley by Entenberry and Rad caught his breath on a wall.
A large-framed nerdy-looking man opened the back of his van.
“WHAT’D YA PUT ME IN THERE FOR?! I WANTED TO RIDE UP FRONT! YA AIN’T TOLD ME ANY ANSWERS WHAT’S, what is pertinent to my investigation!”
“I will kid, I will. Just quiet down. I can only tell you inside where it’s safe.”
“Nah, screws to you. You don’t know nothin. Get –HANDS OFF ME! I SAID-” the head of an axe passed through the man’s foot and lodged into the ground with some sparks.
“Rad!”
“Let’s go buddy!”
The man hobbled after them, screaming incoherently as he stumbled on a bright gushing stump. His red face went white as he leaned on his van for support, downcast.
“Hey you!” Illy addressed a corner-boy. “There’s someone after us! You gotta help!”
“Psh. I don’t have time to play right now: I’m on the clock.”
“Ya gotta help us!”
“Who would be after you?”
“Some jerk who told me he’d help with the investigation if I got in his van.”
The boss of that corner told his fellow teen to tell those kids to leave. The teen was pushing them back towards the alley when he saw the man laying down by his van, a trail of dark seeped into the gravel leading back to the axe and his toes.
“Shit!” The teen turned back to his boss. “We got a problem we have to clean up!”
“What the fuck you talking about?”
“Some guy’s bleeding out right dere.”
The boss took a look.
“Alright, I’ll take him to the graveyard. You watch the corner.”
The boss drove away with an axe, the foot-filled front of a shoe, and a man gaining his second wind in the back of a stolen van.
“Where’re you taking me?” asked Rad.
“We should celebrate solving the mystery!”
“How did we solve it?”
“Stupid! That guy you chopped’s obviously the killer.”
“You think so?”
“I know so!”
They went to Chen’s Dollar store and Illy used his allowance to buy some gum for the both of them. It was getting dark and firecrackers were already going off so they both went home.

A Lesson for Children

Too close to me and you,
lived some people in a commune,
they liked a crazy man,
who wrote out his plan,
about the future,
he was sure,
thought he knew,
what we'd go through,
to end the war,
between haves and have-nots,
to have peace once more,
but peace can't be bought,
by faulty economic schemes,
or high-falutin' dreams,
of an imaginary world,
so before our story's told,
know sweet children,
however frilled the house you live in,
or pitiable your pit,
we all have some things,
and have-not some things,
the categories in this story,
have and have-not,
are imaginary,
it's fine to imagine alot,
but don't ignore reality,
for airy imaginings.

In the commune,
people were farmers,
harvest came soon,
later followed by winter,
season by season,
the workdays went unseasoned,
no celebrations,
split holiday and workday,
every hour "brothers" worked hard,
planting flour across acres,
yard by yard.
Once a month,
the commune met,
to make some rules,
to prepare and set,
any changes:
in who got what tools,
what would be bought from outside,
apportionments of gruel,
and John Lame Mule (full of pride),
considered it cruel,
he was on Elder's bad side,
so he got the least gruel.

At one of the monthly meetings,
John LM made a speech,
he said they had have-nots,
but brotherhood waited in reach,
some men had wives and daughters,
but some brethren were lonely bachelors,
so John LM proposed,
smiling 'round his hooked nose,
the married brothers share,
their wives or daughters fair,
with single brothers who found,
them fine in or out of gowns,
"if they need bound",
John LM said,
"bop them upside the head,
then every brother is wed,
with every sister here,
and our Karl's wise utopia,
draws more near"
some married men opposed
what John LM proposed
but the majority's prose,
above contention rose,
so in the town hall,
women large and daughters small,
were had by all,
bachelors who with haste,
wanted a taste,
of sharing a marital bed.
Some women left the commune,
some of them left notes,
others left with ropes,
the Elder's wife was shared most,
for a while she was comatose,
then rejecting the noose,
she cooked her own goose,
with a dose,
of mandrake.

All sisters were shared,
but some were like a favorite toy,
passed from boy to boy,
while others were like toys forgotten,
left in wooden boxes rotten,
these nagging old hens,
soon made friends,
sitting in a knitting circle,
they clucked of how a cull,
of the most-lended sisters,
may befit kind Karl's order,
Old Bess McGrueder,
suggested the ladies should,
offer The Others lumber(wood),
for liposuction machines,
their tubes of plastic sheen,
would let the ladies siphon,
the fat "those sirens",
packed in too-slim bras,
many ladies cawed,
"...just asking to be shared
dressing so flirty"
and if they were thin,
they'd be less dirty,
then the means of production,
for feminine seduction,
could be pumped in pairs,
of ladies wanting shared,
where women breathed,
and where women sat,
they'd redistribute fat,
between sips of tea,
ladies talked equality.
Old Ms.Sheeat,
stroking her pussy cat,
said they could not glean,
funds for a machine,
but trust her because she,
had a simpler people's solution,
the spinster's fair resolution,
of feminist equality,
would be applied to bodies,
by nails, fists, knives, and tools,
with these instruments they'd school,
man-hoarding sisters,
in how ladies must pool,
their resources together,
to survive the foul weather,
of the male gaze,
through a judgmental haze,
of machismo's appraisal,
the same-looking feminine,
would sail common to commune women.
That night the least shared women,
tore down the means of production,
of feminine seduction,
from the most shared women,
making the latter's faces,
match the former's feminine graces,
until one sister was as good as another,
and had no favor from a brother.
The little daughter of the Elder,
survived that night a cripple,
but she had not bled.

The Elder heard the people,
when they were his people,
and now the people's revolution,
had passed his resolve,
he found he could not solve,
this world of relative shapes,
he longed for a single equal form,
an end to uneven landscapes,
an end to the rich robbing the poor,
to become wealthier all the more,
he longed for a world without worlds,
thoughts without words,
existence without substance,
distinction without variation,
he asked on and on,
what should be his action?
No more a monthly meeting,
nor brother's kind greeting,
he couldn't consult the commune,
with pacing feet,
he asked the empty air,
until he heard an answer,
(something else was there)
in his quiet house.
This widow heard their voices,
The Elder joined their chorus,
an unseen sounding,
a larger commune's founding,
for the first time,
in a long time,
The Elder's ears chimed,
with long missed sounds,
his wife's teeth and tongue,
through his head did resound,
she and most of the brethren,
missed their flesh,
the clucking hens,
and deflated bachelors,
were doors,
the means of production of life,
and The Elder heard what waited in store,
quite, cold for everyone,
loneliness for evermore,
he heard their demands,
and soberly came to understand,
the brethren had amassed,
and told him their wishes at last:
to be fair,
bros must share,
with the majority of brethren passed.
They commanded the Elder,
to gather the people's paybox,
and take it to The Others,
to buy enough mandrake,
to give the Watersnake Well,
the toxin it'd take,
to poison its' fangs.
The Elder looked strange,
to The Others,
but they gave him his supplies,
done making his buys,
he returned to the people,
neighbors asked where he would go,
when he walked by,
didn't they know?
the commune had a meeting,
so now he must try,
to equate the distribution of the means of production of life,
between the people with bodies,
and the voices without,
he did not doubt,
The Elder was sure,
he did the people more good,
than ever before.
He called the commune to gather,
some asked, "what's the matter",
folks stepped aside for his daughter,
she hobbled up front,
compared to most sisters,
she was a runt,
"To equality comrades!
Let's lift the people's cup
and together sup."
So the whole commune drank,
and their numbers shrank,
in a day,
from many,
to none.

One of The Others
took the land of the brothers
and demolished their buildings
for his new mall's opening.