Empty landscape

Empty landscape

The winds roar and whoosh like the voices of the native Americans cleared or killed off to provide this cornscape for the poor white farmers. Tax-free five years, free land gives. The military got to profit too. Paid to clear out the human animals who had been herded here from richer lands just a few years before. Make the corn roll on forever, waving like a green ocean. Let he who walks behind the rows bless our crop. Ia-men.

There's Grandpa at the barber shop chatting with the locals. Chedder Hollins is next to him. They talk about the weather. About the new Soda shoppe in the city some 24 miles west. Chedder went there last weekend. He said he felt so pepped after trying a draught of strawberry Murple soda. Tasted like rat poison and burned corn. But he says he felt warm and soft and heavy. Happy and peaceful. But as he drank more of the stuff he began to feel energized. The hairs on the back of his head stood up. He liked it. He danced all night and spent all his money.

The old town is getting pretty crusty now. Faded flaking paint defaces sagging houses. The old town just lacks the pep is once had. No cable vision, and no mobile phone reception. You gotta go six miles past town to get even a weak signal.

Spring 18

There you go again show some skin.I'm excited we are rerided, no fucks provided no future no future, but the birds are happy now. Cows roam now homeless hungry but at least they are free. Picked off by feral dogs and coyotes. Feral roosters release a primal roar over a landscape empty of humans. Rusted out cars beside the road. The bodies and bones long ago dragged out. Rats and mice live there now.

The winds roar. Strange scents in the wind. The scents are incense from a secret tribe. They are still here, but not "here". A nearby dimension. Still returning for rituals and to breeze the air of the land of birth.

Sometimes strange animals end up here in this space when they cross over with the mind cola dance. When Kip was a child he encountered a Wood Fish. Some strange transparent worm-like creatures swirl in the sky like germs in a microscope.

Brooding darkly

Chedder is drinking in the heat of his shack decades later. Thinking dark, drinking dark. Black beer and humid sweat. Dark thoughts of revenge and death. The roar of insects outside is amazingly loud.

Chedder Hollins

Chedder Hollins stands in front of a big crude wooden plank fence. He tells a stupid racist Indian joke and a plank from the fence slams up into his ass. He squelches in pain. Long splinters are embedded. We laugh at the wide-eyed comical eye out of water look of pain on his face....The loose plank continues to kick ass another seventeen months.

Party on and around the porch

Midnight shines with a yellow-orange moon. Jugs are all about most of them empty. Midnight, moonlight, a great time to fly a glow in the dark kite. All is right with this small section of the world. Relationships are broken while others begin in a drunken haze.

The Doughsberry Pillboy

Our pudgy boy sits on the cement bent soaks in the breeze from the systems under the city. Above him was once a farm, producing tasty veggies. You seeds don't sow in concrete. Before that, it was a mythical beast named nature.

Hangin in the cornfield

It's so hot and muggy. It feels like you could just grab droplets of moisture in your palm. A dog is barking somewhere far away. There is a low machine hum, barely perceptible. It goes on all summer every summer. My clothes are clinging to me in wet clumps. Each night it is taking a little longer for the heat to break. Soon it will not break at all. High temperatures all day and night. No sleep and feeling dried. The earth cracking like dry bones. The insects at night are silent, preserving what juice they have left.

The Silo

Doomsday bells adorn the silo. Only the oldest townsfolk remember when the silo was put up. They say the town founders sacrificed a colored baby, that its body still lies inside the concrete foundation. Doomsday bells rigged up giant horns that shall sound for miles around when the end times have arrived. Yes!, We burn all our cornfields! We won't need them anymore! Yes! we shall kill all the prisoners. We won't be there to feed them no more".