Ghosts
All I have left are ghosts.
The ghost of my marriage
Anniversary mid October,
the ghost of my dad
died early November,
the ghost of my family
haunting the holidays,
and now the ghost of you
haunting my birthday
December 3
the last day I saw you.
Now everything
is just growing old and dying.
What I wouldn’t give
for one more hint of life,
one more hint of youth,
one more night with you.
7/16/24
I had a party at my house Saturday night. A bunch of my musician friends were there. John was there, and Frank and Jimmy the bass player from my band were there. Amy showed up, and that’s something special because Amy hardly ever goes anywhere anymore.
My friend Janet from the sound bath I go to was there. She’s an older divorced woman and we like to commiserate. I actually met her daughter there first. Her daughter’s college age and is friends with a bunch of the younger girls who go to the sound bath. But I really clicked with her mom Janet when I met her so she started coming to my parties.
Also Janet had this deadbeat living with her for a while who she couldn’t get rid of so John and I hatched a scheme with her to get the woman out of her place. I acted like she could move in with me and John loaded all her stuff up in his truck and then when he was on his way I called and said “Sorry, my wife doesn’t want anyone moving in with me since I have the kids on weekends.” So John dropped her off somewhere and that was that. Sounds harsh I know, but Janet’s a sweetheart and it was the only way we were able to get this freeloader out of her house.
Oh, and Michelle was there. I stopped having the parties for a while because Mary Jane used to come to them and they just sort of sucked without her there. But now that I had Michelle I figured I’d try them out again.
We played music, had a good time. Janet and Amy talked to Michelle and they both really liked her. She’s a down to earth, no bullshit kind of woman so it’s hard not to like her. When everyone left Michelle and I fucked all through the night. Then we woke up in the morning and fucked some more. She introduced me to some new things that helped me get past some issues I’ve had since my separation. We won’t go there because this isn’t that sort of story. I’ll just leave it at this: it was an awesome night. And of course I dreamed about Mary Jane, God damnit.
Anyway, we had breakfast together the next day and she was gone. Headed back to the mountains. It was my kid free weekend so I hung out with Amy later. “She seemed really cool,” she said as we sat in her apartment on the couches eating fried carry out shit.
I nodded. “And she’s pretty too. Not my usual type, but to me she’s pretty.”
“She’s pretty to anybody,” Amy said. “Why do you always have to qualify everything?”
I frowned. “It’s just. She’s not. I can’t say it. Sorry.”
“Say it.”
“You really want me to?” I frowned. “She’s not Mary Jane.”
“Nobody is,” Amy said. “Mary Jane is gorgeous. I can’t tell you how many times I was completely ignored when I was with her. This one time we were at a bar and we were talking and this guy sat right between us and started hitting on her like I wasn’t even there.”
I rolled my eyes. “But it’s not just her looks. Not with me. It’s everything else.”
“She’s sweet. She’s a great mom. She’s smart. She’s the kindest person on the planet.” Amy frowned. “Until she’s not.”
“Yeah.” I shook my head. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“And every guy she meets falls in love with her.”
“I mean, I’d like to think it was different with me. We knew each other most of our lives. And we had so much in common.” Here I go again.
“I’m sure you were important to her. Of course you were.”
“Let’s change the subject,” I said. “There’s a reason we agreed not to talk about her.”
“This is exactly what I’m always telling you,” Amy said. “You’re dating this great new beautiful woman, and all you can think about is Mary Jane. You’re so stuck on what you don’t have. You’re never grateful for what you do have. You’re dating a cool, pretty woman who everyone likes. You have four beautiful kids. You have a great job. I don’t have any of those things.”
“I didn’t know you were into women that way.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean”
“And you can have the kids if you want them.”
“That’s not even funny. I can barely take care of my cats. I can barely take care of myself.”
“I can barely take care of myself too. Maybe that’s why we get along so well.”
We talked a while longer, then I went home and slept.
Monday night I didn’t have anything to do, so I drove to Station North, put on my armor, and stalked the streets looking for some White Skulls whose asses I could kick.
I found two of them in an alley. They drew their guns and I closed the space and punched one in the chest while the other one shot at me. I felt a sting in my stomach and kicked his gun away. The one guy grabbed me and I side chopped both of his kidneys then kneed him in the head.
The other guy shot at me and I blocked his gun away and right hooked him. He punched me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me so I uppercut him in the chin. These guys could fight but they still weren’t good enough to take me.
I stomped on them until the fight was taken out of them and threw both of their guns down the street. “Stay out of this neighborhood.”
“Malcolm’s gonna be pissed,” one of them said.
“Who’s that?” I asked. “Your boss?”
“He’s the devil,” the guy said.
“Bring him on,” I said. “I’ve got a beef with the devil. I’d be glad to meet him.”
I walked away down the alley and headed back to my van.
Still Here
I just want to crawl into a hole
and disintegrate,
forget this hopeless mess,
this waste of a life,
but I have people,
kids, family, coworkers, friends
who rely on me
or whatever’s left of me,
whatever part of me they still have,
so I have to move my broken legs,
put one mud-slogged foot
in front of the other,
put my hands against the wall,
and push push push,
spin my wheels,
do whatever I can.
I can’t think,
I can’t take a break.
I’m always running on fumes.
I’m always barely surviving,
hanging on to the cliff ledge
by one broken pinky.
But I’m still here.
Do you hear me?
Universe, God, Satan,
whatever it is
that has stacked everything against me.
I’m still here!
Mother fucker.
7/10/24
After having bought my kevlar body armor, I decided I’d need some more supplies, and I also decided I’d have to be more careful to make sure nothing could be traced back to me and then put my kids in jeopardy. So I started using my mom’s card. I always transferred money into her account so it wasn’t like I was stealing. And I bought the stuff online at the library using their computer and had it sent to Amy’s. With so many different parties involved, I figured it would be crazy hard for anyone to trace anything back to me.
So of course Amy wasn’t thrilled when I went to her place to pick up my latest purchases. “And what are these?” she asked me, holding the boxes.
“Just a few things I needed,” I said with a smile, “for safety’s sake.”
She shrugged. “I probably don’t want to know, right?”
“Just pretend they’re toys for my kids.”
She nodded. “Instead of toys for their dad who’s playing superhero. You do remember you have four kids, right? You should really be thinking about them first and foremost.”
“I do,” I said, “but I also have a life outside of them. They’re only with me half the time, after all.”
“But you should be thinking about them all the time.”
“And I do,” I said, “but when they’re not with me I have to keep myself occupied so I don’t eat myself alive missing them. It hurts when they’re not here. Which is part of the reason I do what I do.”
Last night I went to karate class and then the Train Stop open mic afterwards. At the end of the night, Chris had to help some guy passed out on drugs up to drag him out of the bar. Gina didn’t want any junkies overdosing in her club, after all.
“I don’t know what he was on,” Gina said with her Canadian accent, “but he didn’t drink anything, I know that. He went in the bathroom and came out all sleepy and high looking.”
Chris nodded. “There’s some real bad shit going around Station North.”
“Yup,” Gina said. “It’s been all around the city but it’s working its way here. I heard there’s a new gang in the area and they brought it here.”
“Do you know the name of the gang?” I asked.
“No,” Gina said, “but all the bar and club owners around here are dealing with it. The cops came and carried away this underaged girl at the City Gallery. She didn’t drink anything. Just came in there all fucked up and collapsed on the floor.”
I nodded. I gave Gina a huge tip like I always do and left the club to go back to my van to change. I was looking to try out some of my new stuff.
Once I was in my body armor, I wandered the neighborhood as usual. I snuck up on some alley cats for a bit. I was getting really good at it. I was becoming a bonafide Batman. Albeit a poor man’s version. But still. I’ve discovered you don’t need to be a billionaire to become a costumed crime fighter.
So it was getting late and I hadn’t run into anything yet. I was thinking about calling it a night since it was getting late and I needed to start work early as a computer programmer the next day. It isn’t exactly easy writing computer programs on two or three hours of sleep.
But just as I was getting ready to head back to my van, these two assholes appeared across the street from me. They had long white t-shirts and baggy jeans. Both were wearing white sneakers and they had black bandanas with white skulls all over them. They both drew guns and pointed them at me. “You’ve been encroaching in our territory, mother fucker.”
“This whole city’s my territory,” I shouted back. “You two best be putting those guns away before I have to teach you some lessons.”
They laughed. “Teach us lessons? We’re the White Skulls and you’re dead, mother fucker.”
They started firing and I wasn’t about to see how good my body armor was at stopping bullets. I had four kids, after all. So I turned and ran down an alley. They were running after me and I felt two thuds in my back that stung a little. I reached into a black bag on my hip, pulled out some smoke bombs, and threw them behind me. Then I turned down another alley and kept running.
I heard them coughing behind me. “Stay out of our neighborhood! We’ll come harder next time if we have to.”
I ran for a bit, zigzagging through alleys and streets, then stopped to catch my breath. It was a hot summer night and I was sweating. Body armor wasn’t made for hot Baltimore nights. I didn’t care. I could take it.
I wore my glasses under the goggles in the mask. I wasn’t sure the goggles were bulletproof, and it was uncomfortable wearing my glasses under them, but you gotta do what you gotta do. I can’t see shit without my glasses.
I wondered if the White Skulls had read any of the articles or seen any of the videos about me on the internet. I was famous after all, whether I wanted to be or not.
I waited a bit, then walked back to my van, trying to stay in shadows and alleys as much as possible. Now your average person might be scared off if they knew there were gangsters after them. But I’m not your average person. It made me want to fight even more. I had so much anger and resentment built up and I was ready to start a war.
Maybe Michele and the potential there was helping a little bit, but I was still pissed off and ready to take all my shit out on someone. These White Skulls seemed like the perfect candidates.
Stuck
I fight the urge to write you
because I know how it will end:
the way it always ends between us.
Me left wanting more
than you’re willing to give.
And things being awkward and sad.
My depression can’t handle
the idea of you with someone else
so I’ve crawled into a hole and hidden.
And each time I peek out
to see if things are safe,
the fear pulls me back into this pit
I’m trapped in now.
And there’s no one in here except me.
It’s lonely and dark as a grave.
I’m hoping maybe one day
you’ll reach a hand in to help me out
but I realize it’s likely a false hope
so I’m just falling
falling
falling.