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the last time they
saw him
happy
was when he told them about
that weird dream
he had
in which wine
poured from the tap in
his kitchen

and that
was it

he had nothing else
in life to
be happy about

They didn’t need to
ask his
profession

Somehow they
all knew
he was a
poet

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there's been a collection of
rather
dark thoughts lately

and he was
studying it from the comfort
of his bed

The other day he found a good pillow
in the dumpster
and used it to cover the spot
on the mattress where the
rusty springs emerged
Now the bed was fine again

good enough for
daydreaming

After you've tried out all herbs
and powders
all that's left are the dreams

the daydreams
and the nightdreams
and the nightmares
and the daymares

On another day spent dumpster diving
he'd found a plastic bag
with about six severed hands
They were still cold

some mafia shit was going on
in the city

He took them home
and tried to cook them
hoping to obtain at least some bits of meat

He had no pan and of course no oil
so he impaled them with iron
rods at the writs
and placed them upright in a barrel
he lit up

He sat back watching them
smelling them

Higher on hunger than on the herbs
he'd smoked

And then he'd realized
that they were women's hands
and fantasized about
them springing to life and crawling over
him and doing things to him

It gave him a hard on
or perhaps the illusion of one

but regardless
that was a fun night

The closest he came to having females
over. Some who cooked and
fed him after the fun time

He'll remember that night
for the rest of
his life

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she never finished college
but she was a pill expert
and took pride in it

"Here, this one'll make you rock
against your will. You'd need some."

"Not me," I said

"You afraid?"

"Yes."

"Hahahahaaa, afraid o' some pills, boy?
D' you know what being afraid of
this stuff's called around here?"

"I don't know what's called around here
I'll call it wisdom where I'm at. No
pills for me, thanks."

"Wow, you're such a pussy, ain't ya?
Oh, well that's too bad, I guess.
Would've been fun to rock the bed tonight
but I ain't lookin' for no pussy. I wanna give that."

She gave it to one of my friends along with
some sketchy looking pills
and from that night on they were a couple
of some sorts for a little over a month

And when she took the right pills
she talked in the wrong ways
In her sleep
to the walls
to her cat
to her left foot, but whispering
so the right won't hear

And when she was on pills she would have
her new boyfriend hold her phone
and not allow her to answer if her dad called
Her dad didn't call too often but
somehow managed to call when she was on pills
He just wanted to check how college's going
not knowing she'd quit
or was expelled
months ago

"Ah, my daddy would so kill me
if he found out. Like, yeah, he'd kill me as fuck!
But that's all right. I'm all right.
I know this dude who prints 'em, makes 'em
look like the real thing.
Just give 'im the ID an' cash
and you're good. I'll be good."

Well, I don't know
I guess wisdom comes in many, many forms
that friend of mine she hooked up
with considered it wise to
one day just tell her father the truth

The phone rang for the fourth time
and she was lying in bed
naked with froth about her lips
and eyes staring up into her skull
probably looking for salvation or something
He answered and introduced himself to her father
and told him everything,
even switched to video call to show the man his daughter
He thought he'd save her life this way

Sacrifice the relationship to save your partner's life
I guess that's wise

She went into rehab, I heard
and, what do you know, a few years later
she's married and pregnant
I wonder how wise her husband is... 

there’s nothing good on TV
when you’re in
a crap mood

“Shit,” he thought. “Nothing’s gonna be
good on TV for
the next 18 years. At least.”

he sighed
and shifted his position on
the couch

four days till New Year’s Eve
and he already
got the greatest
gift one could wish for. A positive
pregnancy test from
his girlfriend

Oh, he was over the
moon
and everybody knew

“Meh, I don’t need TV. I’m
the best actor
I’ve seen…”

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it was a sad 
sight
lately

and the sounds coming 
from it were even
sadder

Such was the house
of humans

Full of shouts 
and objects banging and
braking against the walls,
curses against gods,
against parents,
death threats,
agony
and grief
and pure rage

destruction

But not being humans 
the two of them
watched from outside,
from their enclosure
outside their pen

“It’s the destiny of 
all humans,” she told
him 

“To fight each other 
to death?” he asked

She nodded
her big, fleshy head,
making her ears flap. “That’s
right. The curse of 
those humans is that
they’re trying
too hard
to place a male and 
a female in the same space,
have them share the
same life
and actually expect it to
work out. How foolish.”

“Is there really
no way
it can work out?” he asked

“Ah, you’re so young. Barely
more than a piglet,
aren’t you? Look, when it 
does work out 
between humans... it’s 
an exception. Never the rule. 
Their curse started with
having fingers
that can grab things
and extended to 
having minds that can
grasp concepts
other than food, sleep,
and sex. 
To be able to think higher
is a curse, not a blessing. Maybe
they’ll figure it out one day.
Until then,
let us enjoy our lives. Let’s 
celebrate, darling. If the humans
are too busy killing themselves
they won’t be slaughtering us
and they’ll soon be our
food
instead of us being theirs. Happy
day! Oh, I am
excited. C’mon, mount me,
darling, let’s celebrate.” 

“Mount you?” he said. “But...
aren’t we related?” 

“Oh, come now, don’t think
like a human.” 

He mounted her
and the 
screams coming from inside
the house of humans
accompanied them 
like music

It all ended
with a bang

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That did it
He was tired of coming home from work
and finding
a fucking book on the table
instead of food

but the book was also on his
pillow when he went to bed

on the toilet tank

in the garage

in the shed behind the house

and on the dashboard of his goddamn car

He had enough of it

And one day he told her
he had enough of it and enough of her
It was time to break up
this wasn't going to work

He was not going to quit smoking
and she was not going to quit nagging him
to read her book on quitting smoking

"I won't marry you until you're 101 days clean,"
she'd said

He smoked a pack and a half a day

It was time to break up
and, gods, she didn't take it lightly

In that morning he left her alone to collect
all her stuff from his house and be gone
by the time he returned

She was indeed gone by the time he returned
and took nothing more than what belonged to
her and even left something behind
Her self-published book on how to quit smoking,
what else?

He sighed
picked it up from the coffee table
looked it over
sat on the couch
put a cigarette between his lips and
when he lit it the house blew up

Perhaps a big moral in the book was to
always check the gas after a
breakup

but it was too late now

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she hadn’t been his wife

because her religious family would never

allow their sweet treasure

to marry a lowlife like him

But she had been his girlfriend because

she needed to rebel

against her family somehow

But very little of that mattered now

She was no longer among

the living

and it was her own choice

Enforced by two fistfuls of pills

and half a bottle of 65% proof vodka

Her family was beginning

to forget her

now

Suicide was something not even Jesus could

forgive

“I’m stronger than Jesus himself then!”

he shouted in the

hand mirror she left behind

at his place. “I forgive you! And I

still love you.”

He smashed the hand mirror against the wall

and knelt amongst the

shards

They watched him from below

with crimson eyes

Eyes that reminded him of hers when she was

crying in his arms,

talking endlessly about her stupid family who

won’t take mental issues like depression

and anxiety seriously. They said

it was but a phase

and she just needed to grow up

and pray some more. Also, her lowlife

boyfriend needed to go

If only that last

rule wouldn’t have been in place…

She would’ve been here now,

he knew

He reached for the

largest shard,

not breaking contact with the crimson eyes,

and stabbed it deep into

the wrist of his left hand

“Haha,” he said, still looking

at the eyes. “Just like when you took

bathroom breaks from the sermon to video-call me. I… still love you, babe…”