Archive for November 29th, 2007



November 29, 2007

      I don’t know how long they’ve been here, drifting through the room touching people. As far as I can remember the ghosts have always been here; they make us normal again. It’s always so quiet after they have come and gone. When they touch me, oh they are so beautiful, I can begin to remember things again. I know when they have touched me because my throat feels cool and my mouth is wet. As soon as I stop shaking I go to my window.
     I love my window because it is so bright, just like the ghosts. I know that I am normal when I look out the window because I see people walking in all that brightness. They must be normal, so I’m sure that I am too because otherwise how could I see them?
     My window is so pretty. For so long it shows me a green world; then it changes its mind, turns a bunch of colors, and then turns white. That’s when it’s the brightest. I can never remember to count how many times it’s turned white for me, but my window likes me because it’s done it a lot. Even though it changes colors all the time, I know it’s my window, my name is on the bed under it. In little letters it says “HORNER, JACK”.
     But now my hands start to shake again and I don’t like to sit by my window. The Outside people can see me here. They stop walking by and start watching me. I think they see my hands shake. The ghosts say that Outside peoples hands don’t shake ’cause they’re normal. So if they see me shaking they will know I live with the ghosts. When the ghosts make my mouth wet and cold my hands stop shaking. But now my hands are shaking so I can’t be normal. I wish my window would help me stay normal.
     I have to get up now. Maybe I can find a ghost to touch me again, but all I see is the other people. All of them are Inside people. They wear stripes like me. They are so noisy. Whenever my hands begin to shake the Inside people get too loud and hurt my ears. I always have to cover my head with my arms and run to the quiet places. But I’m looking for the ghosts and I don’t see any.
     My favorite quiet place is over in the corner under the shelf. It is a very tall shelf, but it does not scare me. I know nothing is living up there. I sit in my corner because I am smart. I know that because the ghosts stay away from us Inside people when we are loud, so I must be smart when I hide from the loud people. I know that if I can be like the ghosts, then I am good and they will have to say I’m normal.
     The ghosts have come back to stop my hands from shaking. I stand and walk over to them. I try to float like they do. I practice. One ghost smiles at me, touches me, but my mouth is still dry. I hope I’ve not been bad. They make it dark when I’m bad. The ghost says today we are special because one of the Outside people has given us their food to eat.
     But if I eat Outside people food, then wont I get smart and become normal? On the table is the Outside food. It’s a pie. It must have brains in it or something. The kind that will keep my hands from shaking.
     So I grab the pie for myself, right in front of the ghost, and run to my corner. The ghost gets all loud and noisy like Inside people do. This pie must have the ghosts brain in it. It wants the brains for itself. It only wanted to give us a little. But I know now. I’ll get a brain and I’ll be normal. When I get to my corner I sit down with the Outside pie. I don’t want to break all the brains by mushing them up with my whole hand. The ghost is so noisy now. I don’t want the ghost to think I’m bad and make it dark so I stick only my thumb in the pie. When I pull it out there is a brain stuck to it, it looks sort of like a plum. I show the ghost my new brain, so it knows that I’m smart and normal now. I say “I’m a good boy” but the ghost says I’m not smart.
     Then the ghost makes everything go dark…

quod erat demonstrandum.jpg


The Kitchen

November 29, 2007

An antique is
UselessAnd showy
Serving no purpose
That is my aunt’s kitchen

Cooking here is minimal
But style is at a maximum
Old oak floors
And a tin ceiling hung with fans

Antique glass on each cupboard
Displays urns of hand dried
Noodles and herbs
Like a mausoleum

All of which clashes with the
Stainless steel
LED display
Of the most modern
Double oven

Framed in worm bored antique wood paneling

We are visiting, my wife and I
I am talking with my aunt
My wife goes to the kitchen
Looking for something to drink

She finds the fridge in a recessed corner
It is an old fridge
My aunt thinks it’s ugly
She hides it

My wife opens it
She does not see drinks
She does not see food
Only condiments
Ketchup can make anything taste good

What once was food is now
A governmental experiment
Wrapped in cellophane
Green, red, & brown
Frigid, toxic rainbow

Ten minutes later
My wife hands me my coat
Her stern eyes glare into mine
She says
“It’s time to go”

quod erat demonstrandum.jpg


Take on Her Kitchen

An Antique is
And full of memories
This is my kitchen

Cooking here is a constant
Style a vain hope
New sticky tab tile flooring
And an old ceiling with flourescent lighting.

A 23rd coat of paint on each cupboard
Keeping safe hand picked herbs
Like a magician’s hat

All of which comes together with
witch dolls on high
cats on counters
candles that flicker

If you were to visit, your wife and you
You’d have no room to gather or stand

If your wife went to the ever so small kitchen
Looking for something to drink

She coudn’t help but find the fridge
I think it serves its purpose
And it can’t hide

If your wife opened it
She would see drinks
She would see food
And condiments
Feta and truffle oil make everything grand

The food thats there,
made with love and care
Is kept in lead free containers just waiting to be enjoyed

Yummy, savory, a culinary rainbow.

10 minutes later
Your wife hands you her coat and says,
“Please hang this up…we’re staying to sup.”

This is my kitchen. 🙂