He asked her what it meant & she said that they're just the kinda lies that make up everyone's childhood. The lies you believe in order to sleep thru the night. He leaned back on the astro-turf & emptied the bottle out, drops of it stinging his lips & pushed the guitar away. But the lies told to us now aren't any different, he said. You get older & the lies only become more complicated, harder to unravel until you just collapse before them. He sat up & threw the bottle out onto the course. It landed hushed among the icy glare of the golfballs. What lies have you been told, she asked. I don't know, he said, I stopped trying to be free of them & started believing in them just so I could sing again without stumbling over the words. She lowered her head onto his stomach & ran her fingers across the seams of his jeans. But you still stumble over the words, she said, so you must still believe. She unbuckled his pants & pulled them down to his knees. I stumble, he said, 'cause sometimes I forget the words just like children forget the lullabies they're supposed to sing to make their parents happy. Do you know any lullabies, she asked as her hand slid beneath his boxers, trying to rouse with words what her fingers only fumbled before. My mother only sung one lullaby to me, he said, one where a child falls from a branch snapped by the wind & crashes to the ground, but her voice was so raspy, I just pretended to fall asleep so that she'd tip-toe outta the room. He laid still as she rested her head on his thigh & he told her that he hears the same raspiness when he sings, every day it eats away at his voice, some inborn disease, the songs grow ragged & sharp until the singing just gives out all at once & he's back where he began when he first started playing, ashamed of his voice & humming deep within his throat. He slides her pants off & toys with her clit ring as she crawls up to straddle him. After awhile of bouncing ontop of him with her jaws grinding, she lets out a scream & her head falls back. He lifted her up with his hip & shuddered violently beneath her. She let out a second scream & he lifted her higher. She yelled stop, stop, you fucking idiot, you're hurting me, don't you fucking know you're hurting me & lifted off of him, reaching for her pants. I just got this piercing last week. It's too sore. With her jaws still grinding, she cradled herself between the legs with one hand & tried to pull up her pants with the other.
7/7/08
voice snapped
He asked her what it meant & she said that they're just the kinda lies that make up everyone's childhood. The lies you believe in order to sleep thru the night. He leaned back on the astro-turf & emptied the bottle out, drops of it stinging his lips & pushed the guitar away. But the lies told to us now aren't any different, he said. You get older & the lies only become more complicated, harder to unravel until you just collapse before them. He sat up & threw the bottle out onto the course. It landed hushed among the icy glare of the golfballs. What lies have you been told, she asked. I don't know, he said, I stopped trying to be free of them & started believing in them just so I could sing again without stumbling over the words. She lowered her head onto his stomach & ran her fingers across the seams of his jeans. But you still stumble over the words, she said, so you must still believe. She unbuckled his pants & pulled them down to his knees. I stumble, he said, 'cause sometimes I forget the words just like children forget the lullabies they're supposed to sing to make their parents happy. Do you know any lullabies, she asked as her hand slid beneath his boxers, trying to rouse with words what her fingers only fumbled before. My mother only sung one lullaby to me, he said, one where a child falls from a branch snapped by the wind & crashes to the ground, but her voice was so raspy, I just pretended to fall asleep so that she'd tip-toe outta the room. He laid still as she rested her head on his thigh & he told her that he hears the same raspiness when he sings, every day it eats away at his voice, some inborn disease, the songs grow ragged & sharp until the singing just gives out all at once & he's back where he began when he first started playing, ashamed of his voice & humming deep within his throat. He slides her pants off & toys with her clit ring as she crawls up to straddle him. After awhile of bouncing ontop of him with her jaws grinding, she lets out a scream & her head falls back. He lifted her up with his hip & shuddered violently beneath her. She let out a second scream & he lifted her higher. She yelled stop, stop, you fucking idiot, you're hurting me, don't you fucking know you're hurting me & lifted off of him, reaching for her pants. I just got this piercing last week. It's too sore. With her jaws still grinding, she cradled herself between the legs with one hand & tried to pull up her pants with the other.
7/2/08
Blessed Unrest
The guitar's shell like a conduit for the wind which at first timidly sifted through the strings, barely strumming them, then pulsed & howled from within, gathering force before blasting out through the strings again, rattling them against the fingerboard. The golf course is kinda nice, she said, but the view is shit. It must kinda knock them out. I mean coming out here, all those guys hitting balls the whole day, looking at this shitty skyline & the green field. Must make them kinda dizzy like they'll soon fall on their faces. All the balls just flying up one after the other, then jumping around the bright grass. She started scavenging through her bag & coat pockets & said I thought I had something to drink around here. He said I got something & opened up his case & pulled out a palm-sized bottle of Stolichnaya. She took a few sips & passed it back. They must feel kinda like little children, watching those balls falling one after the other, like children looking out windows at the snow falling, like children who can't go out in the cold & they sit at the window until night comes & they forget that they ever wanted to go out & forget the lullabies they were taught to sing & whisper beneath the sheets schlaf nun selig und süß, schau im Traums Paradies.
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