zuma nuda

small frames

^

I

don't

paint

Large

canvases

V

ALL SHARKY

What do you mean Tangerine?

What the fuck is tangerine?

Like no suit I ever seen.

You don’t go believing

you’ll be seeing that on me!

What else you got?

Butternut?!

What the fuck is ‘butternut’?

What?!

Looks like shit!

Look at this gut, see this butt?…

you want all this wrapped up in butternut?

Come on…

What happened to Blue?

Or brown?

Or Gray?

Or suede?

Hey, got something in Silver?

...all shimmy and shiny?
Can’t beat them girls away!

How ‘bout something Sharky and smart

You know man,

look cool,

look cut

lookin' razor sharp

If you want the job

got to look the part

play the role

swim on in

all silent

all trim…

new shark in the pool

they go…oooo, that’s him…

chickens want to play

with a man 
Attired  
a certain way

what you laughing at?

Why are you laughing at all?

Hell, if I leave it up to you

I’m a fucking butter-ball

Or some sherbet cone,
melting in the corner,
Leavin' all-alone

Won't be the joke

to be remembered
way down the road,

Not the way
I want to be known…

What?

Seriously? Now you just being mean.       

What the fuck is wintergreen?!

Fuck Springtime.

I want a Suit I can have a little fun in

You just think you being funny

Got me going around

like some big pink bunny.

And I thought you were my friend.

Checkers?

Yeah, I like checkers….

A SAD MESS

I never knew Yolanda. She was from the other parish. The opposite side of town. The south end. In old days there was no rich side or poor side ...there was only north, south, and downtown...simple directions, nothing more. Just follow the highway on through. In time, money and class came to the community and the lines became drawn. First the retailers and merchants for those that got some. Those that could not purchase or save were not welcome, got none. The developers finally arrived, like sharks after chum...there were many private meetings about private communities and fourth generation families, sold out the Town and decided to put in the lake. There were many questions, important questions...and still more that were not asked. What would happen to the water supply? The south end would be fine, and it was deeded. Downtown became quaint and historic, and since it had become an income engine, drawing tourism to it’s quaintness, their water was due. Had to have those fountains... But, the north...? The north would be short-ended. Depleted. Water, wages, way-of-life. The Help got to live somewhere...it's important to the infrastructure. Way out here, a substantial pool, so the labor is cheap, and out of view, so tidy and neat. No reason to go there, and plenty to leave.

Yolanda was lucky and landed a nanny spot with a couple of swells, just moved out from the city. They preferred their Latina to look more Anglo, you know? Like central casting. And lucky for Yolanda her father was half anglo. Blue eyes. To hell with the kid, she looked the part. It was Yolanda's first job. She was not prepared, but they gave her the part. That decision can’t be avoided. People want what they want. Some bad priorities, but that don't matter. Yolanda did fine...more than got-by for several months until that night. You know, the night the little boy died. He choked. Chocked on a plastic brick, as they sat on the floor building cities...she just did not see, his back to her...until he collapsed into the pile. She did everything she could conceive of but in a panic...everything wrong in retrospect...only succeeding in lodging the piece in the child's windpipe and before she finished placing the call to Emergency, the boy went limp.

She ran down the road. She screamed...wailed...and ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she ever had ... tear blind, throat raw, her lungs burned, she screamed like a wailing siren. Barely avoiding a delivery truck in mid street,  causing it to swerve and wreck…the driver suspects she was trying to die, too. The gardener, he saved her,  unloading his trailer as it occurred, heard the brakes, saw the swerve, yanked her away with a rake, to the curb. But.. 
Saved her from what? 
…and why?!  
No one could deny. 
Just a sad, sad mess. 

Crow No Crow

REBECCA'S MUSTY FUDGE

Part  2 - "Spreading Rebecca"

Rebecca and Raymond are now ‘an Item’, having fallen in musty lust with each other’s feet.  But their world is about to expand exponentially .

There’s the phone. Let’s listen in :

Hello, Raymond.

My Footness…

Oh, Ray….

Queen of Sole…

Ray-Ray, please, you’re embarrassing me.

It’s all true. But you called me, so what may I do for you? Hmmmm?

Not this time, Fella. This time the treat’s on me.

You want to break our delicious routine?

Not at all, Raymond, honey…I’m just looking to expand the menu.

You’re bored with my butter?

Never, Lover. But it’s time Mama did some fixing, too.

Oooo…I think I like the sound of that. So what are you fixing to Fix?

I told you it’s a treat. Care to guess? ….something sweet?

Okay. I’ll say - Sponge cake in the pedi-creases, strawberry slices perched on each nail, and topped with an eruption from whipped cream mountain, ejaculated straight from the aerosol can.

Angel Food…?

No…Angel Foot.

Ramón, I swear I never met a man could make me swoon like you do…mmmmm….mmm!

Was I warm?

HOT! But not….

Marshmallow toe bunnies, graham cracker crumbles and chocolate sauce?!

Eeeeeeee!!! S’MORES!!!! and….Sooooo, HOT!

I give up.

FUDGE!

Fudge?

HOT FUDGE! …with brownie dough spacers! I’ve been working on it all weekend. I’ve perfected it! I have it! An adorable, pour able consistency….And Mister Lucky Boy, I am going to drench your tootsies in this decadent sauce and devour each and every goddamn chocolate piggie until you beg me to stop!

A Creamy Fudgy….mmmm.

Like a giant sundae, Yes!…to ice cream! Yes! To whipped cream, yes!…. to strawberries, yes! to bananas, oh! We’ll sprinkle your nuts! I’ll be you’re pudgy, fudgy, slutty, piggie! (grunt, grunt…)

Oh! You do a good pig…

I do an EXCELLENT pig, you wait and see me grovel.

Ohhhhhh…..

Ray-ray? Am I sensing a fudge stick growing….with a cherry on the top?

I…uh….I think I agree. We need to expand. Move beyond the feet….

(Gasp) Beyond feet!!??

Indeed.

How beyond?

Ice Cream sandwich…beyond.

Full body? …Raymond?…are you suggesting…?

It IS common practice, you know?

Not where I come from…

We all have our tales…But won’t you allow us a new chapter? Hmm? You’re the best chance I ever had…the first one to understand.

I…I am touched to hear you say that Raymond. Truly touched…

Rebecca it is our calling. The food, the juices, the sauces, the spice….the boldness, the delicacy, the richness….we could live happily on petite fours forever, no doubt! But a pity we never experienced the Grand Buffet!

My Lord, Raymond, you’re pushing me somewhere I could never go before, and yet, you draw me in…you whet my appetite…my lips tremble and drip in anticipation. No one has ever made me salivate so…Raymond?! Next Friday?…after we ‘share the butter’…?

Yes?

Pack a bag and stay over...

Really?

Yes. For two nights, please. Saturday we’ll compare notes, go out shopping…and prepare items…

And Sunday?

Yes, Raymond…my dear, hot, Raymond….come Sunday...all DAY, Sunday...WE Shall Be ‘The Champagne Bruncheon’!

­

RUFUS, THERE'S A RUCKUS

Rufus!

Yes, Madam?

Rufus, there’s a ruckus…

Another ruckus, Madam?

I fear someone is being bludgeoned…or worse!

Madam, we’ve been down this road before…

Not like this, Rufus, I can assure you. In fact, I’m shocked you can’t hear the screams in the Lobby!

The Waverleys again…?

Whom else?

I am afraid the Police won’t be too quick to respond this time around…given ‘our history’…

You suggest that I sit quietly by, sip some tea, and listen to the victim in the throws of her demise.

Mr. Waverley addressed those concerns on each prior occasion, as was verified by Mrs. Waverley, who hardly looked the worse for wear, I might add.

I believe they had been drinking! How else would you explain such laughter and frivolity…oh!”

What is it?!

She’s pleading for her life, Man! You can’t hear that?! ‘Oh, please! Please, please, please!!!!’ Where’s the compassion? What’s the world coming to? You can’t hear that?

No Madam, the walls are quite soundproof.

If that’s the case, Rufus, then how the hell can I, a wearer of, not one, but TWO, hearing aids, mind you…not to mention my tinnitus!…How can I possibly hear so very clearly all that is transpiring. I can feel the thuds…the very blows!…vibrating through the floor. He’s pummeling her with a heavy object, and she’s screaming bloody murder, while no one…absolutely NO ONE, is listening to me! Her blood will be on your collective hands when this is done.

But Madam, Mr. Waverley has put us both on notice…should it happen again, there will be repercussions, which I take as, I could lose my job.

Over my dead body!

I’m afraid that won’t help, Madam.

What if it’s not Mr. Waverley? Did you consider that?! It IS broad daylight…! Why would he be home? It could be a stranger…an intruder!

I doubt that. I do keep my eyes peeled for strangers. Actually, Mr. Waverley passed through the lobby not an hour ago. He was in quite a cheerful mood, and in a bit of a hurry.

I’d be willing to bet he had a plan in mind, and was on his way to carry out the foul act!

He was whistling...but…perhaps if you turned on your TV…

Rufus, I know you to be a good man, but I cannot drown out the screams of a dying woman. Besides, I tend to depend on the Closed-Captions, so the sound is irrelevant…except for the sound next door, of which I am miraculously capable of hearing!

If I may be so brazen as to suggest that you may be experiencing some issues with your hearing aids, or perhaps a ringing in the ears of some sort.

RUFUS! I am no old fool, and will not be treated as such!

No offense intended, Madam. I was simply trying to be conciliatory. Would you prefer to have your walls inspected? They really are quite soundproof, I assure you.

thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud……

You can’t hear that?!

Perhaps they are hanging paintings…

Oh, that’s ripe, Rufus! Why do you defend the….WAIT ! Oh dear! Good for you darling! Strike back!

Excuse me, Madam?

It seems she has turned the tables! Where she found the strength I’ll never know!

How so, Madam?

She suddenly seems  to have the upper-hand! He’s begun to beg for mercy!

Madam, perhaps…

That-a-girl! Throttle him! Give him the old ‘what-for’! OH! YES! Take that! How does that feel? Suffer you bloody bastard!

Madam, really…I think perhaps your imagination…

Rufus, there is nothing imaginary going on. It’s all too real, I assure you. Wait…

Madam, I must tend to other business.

More important than MY business, Rufus? Really? I shall remember that come Christmas…

It’s not that, Madam, and I do appreciate the $20 each and every year…most generous.

Shhhhh!!!!

Something happening?

Seems they’ve come to some agreement.

How so?

They are settling their differences.

Can you be more explicit, Madam?

He…she…they are both shouting in agreement!

Agreement?

Yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! …and so on.

Excellent. So the problem seems to have resolved itself?

I suppose. 

YES!!!!

I...um...I do prefer that couples get along well. I mean them no ill will, whatsoever. But Edgar and I never raised our voices…

Sorry to hear that, Madam, perhaps if you had…

Had What, Rufus?

Had Celebrated more….if you’ll pardon me…

I see. Well, we chose to celebrate silently, Rufus. We were private people…Civil.

Pity the world has forgotten how that’s done.

They are actually laughing, Rufus. I do hope this was not some sick joke at my expense.

I doubt that, Madam.

Still…I think I’ll ‘keep an ear out’ should it turn nasty again.



Odds are it will, Madam.



You see, Rufus? Vigilance. I am gratified that you’ve finally come around to my way of thinking.



Yes. I have indeed, Madam, I have indeed.



Feeling rather light-headed…now that it’s all quiet, I think I’ll lie down for a bit...perhaps a nap.


Sweet dreams, Madam.



Thank you, Rufus. You're a good man.

    (click)

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