Always choose truth over accuracy. – Barker Ajax
If I Ever Go Missing
If I ever go missing,
please do not lie about me.
My smile does not
light up the room.
I am not
the sweetest person you ever met,
the one everybody loves.
That's not me.
I have three friends
and a wise ass.
If I ever go missing,
this is not a small town
and everybody doesn't know
everybody else.
Anybody shoulda saw this coming.
Crazy shit happens here
all the time.
All the time.
Tell that to Dateline.
If I ever go missing.
Lesbian Birthday Party
At the lesbian birthday party there’s a eight-person hot tub, numerous earth mothers and white witches, plus much understanding. No other men.
A black cat with green eyes, two dachshunds – one small and one tiny – and an aggressive vegetable garden.
A famous rock band, all-girl, of course. Love, too.
Something grabs one eye – I am really stoned – and it’s a vision, please be real, please be real, please be real, in the doobie’s glow, a naked nymphy blonde angel dances by. There might have been wine, too. Think Tinker Bell in her early twenties.
Lesbian birthday party, okay, but maybe she just hasn’t met the right guy. Maybe she’s a switch-hitter, like that Anne Heche, who by the way looks just like Tinker Bell, all grown up. Shouldn’t be thinking like this, I remind myself. It’s a lesbian birthday party.
Hear a distant ethereal voice, all cautionary-like, tell me, ‘that’s the band leader’s girlfriend.’ The voice is coming from the band leader, seated next to me. In the hot tub.
Pitch black out, you can take an old tennis ball and throw it fifty yards into the ABSOLUTELY DARK forest TREMENDOUSLY DENSE underbrush in the DEEP woods behind the house. Maybe a minute later Gretel The Greater Dachshund will drop the ball at your feet. She must smell the ball, is the only thing I can figure. The dog can do this all night until your arm hurts.
Band leader: “So, Barker, what do you do at a big shindig with your friends?”
Back in the day, every lesbian you saw on TV was either a murderer or somehow involved in a murder. First female serial killer was a lesbian. She had her reasons, I guess.
Remember thinking, if I say anything wrong right now, they’ll need Gretel to find my body.
“These are my friends.”
The perfect answer.
Told you I was stoned.
