LARS' LAST LAUGH

I met with Lars Knowlund just weeks before he died. He was quite

agitated about it all. He did not ask for this trouble. He most certainly

resented the attention. He never felt it was his personage that

deserved the credit, but rather his mind...don't ask him why, because

he claims, "no clue" that the mind had a mind of it's own and doesn't

belong to him at all, but instead, chose him to transmit that which was to be

dictated to him...through him... nightly. It was, at first thrilling and

electric...he channeled with great energy, and enthusiasm rippled

through him. They flew through the words, ripped through pages,

strode through volumes of uncanny verse. Strident, daring, head on

A bravado assault in the pairing.

Symbiotic brothers, belting them out

Fish to water...current take me where you will.

But...

Time can turn the exuberant into the expected ...with more expected

from each party, each passing night.

“Don't think. Just type. TYPE!”

The voice began to bitch.Their nightly rituals gone stale. Lars was not channeling properly. They grew to doubt one another, Lars and the voice. Night after night, the battle, the fight.

Listen to me damn it!

Then Lars' mind finally locked...he was, he moaned, "oh so Deathly

blocked."

Consciousness overruled the “sub-”... and Lars felt vacated. Nothing

lived in his attic. No one came knocking. No one shook him awake.

Just, Quiet, Cobwebbed coherence.

Coherence? Blasphemy!

Incomprehensible as it seem, the dream stopped.

"That can't be," he told me, "that just can't be! How could we possibly

have separate ideas, he was part of me...but not mine. He had the

thoughts, I had him, at least for as long as he determined to stay. But

you don't leave me barren with nothing to say!"

He raged that day. Shaking a fist at a sky growing darker than he and full now of it's own Energy.

“Damn you! What have you left of me? Hollow as hell,

thoughts I can't swallow. Myself a self doubter! Damn you. Better that

we never conjoined, than to have shared and be left barren. Ignorance-is-

bliss can kiss my ass, it's fucking boring!”

He slammed the door on me. Smack in my face. Now it was my turn to

pace and there was no better place than this lush pine grove. Who would not appreciate this glenn? So, I strolled the meadowed field hoping the weather would hold. I had to connect with my own thoughts. Get some perspective on what I had

just experienced, the words I heard...

"What are you thinking?" He asked sneaking up behind, or perhaps I

was just distracted by the distractions in my mind to notice. He had

calmed. His face not so troubled and lined, but his complexion quite

pale as if he'd just reached a reckoning.

"...no, no, tell me...the thoughts...the words. I'd like to know. Speak to

me as you think them, aloud so I can hear. I won't use them I swear,

they'd be your thoughts, not mine, I 'd just love to hear...words strung

together, and take some joy in here."

I rambled on for several hours...bits and pieces of work and interviews...

"Ha! That's crap," he'd say, and rightfully so.

Sometimes his eyes would light up like he could see it before him, his finger fidget as if tapping it out, like code...feeling the sense, the smell of it formulating...before

the shade draws back down again and he fades.

The storm finally mastered him, I hear. Oh, not the piddling one that

we experienced, but it's big, big brother, who took no time to pay the

man it's mind as it barrelled inland. “Excuse me while I blow this bare-ass old buggar to oblivion.” He railed back at the storm, "Go away !!"

And so he was, in an instant...within a flash. Gloriously Gone.

Lars' last laugh.

BYE, BUD.

My brother…step brother, actually…but we don’t think twice about the fact, having been the same age, and raised in the same household…a good household, with solid, loving parents who had made huge mistakes on the first go-round, but learned their lessons and gratefully made up for them on the second, thereby forming a formidable couple. So, knowing that we had both won the parental lottery, we bonded quite naturally, at a very young age, in a warm, secure place. We were certainly as close and competitive as any blood brothers, and still get together every few months and ‘shoot the shinola’, as Bud likes to say.

Smug? You find me smug?

No…well…Yes. Excessively proud of your own success?...then, Yes.

I see. And this is your sincere POV?

Certainly.

What’s wrong with that? We’re all just people trying to succeed. So, then, what’s wrong with me taking pride in my Achievement?

You’re an Elitist.

Am not. Stop labeling me….just jealousy. I have earned everything that’s come my way, and more, I dare say.

I agree to a degree. But Success, only the quest of Excess, is way beyond simple survival….How much can you gather, how long do you have to hoard?

Exactly.

LIFE is the reason for survival. If you don’t have a life then what good is success?

What good is success? Are you shitting me? If you can’t survive, you got no Life. Survival is the essence of life! 

If you are so encumbered by far surpassing simple survival…of excessiveness…you have no life either.

Are you kidding? Too esoteric for me, you romantic SOB. Ask anyone out there…him…or her…or maybe she…tell me dear, what would you rather be? Rich?!!…or…Loved.

She walked over to our table.

Am I the topic of your discussion?

Not personally…no. But in the general sense, as just an ordinary…ah..member of our society? Yes.

You mean ‘just anybody...a nobody? ‘An insignificant peon…'?

No! Whoa down, girl. We’re all of equal significance.

You really think that?

That’s the conversation we were just having….and, I think he really  meant to say ‘random sample’, by the way…but, then I postulate that Humber, here, (Bud had assumed his father’s name…why? I could only guess it made a nice marketing 'hook')…Humber, here, is an extreme Elitist…

Humber?

Bud Humber…

Bud Humber the Humberburger King?!

Does that impress you?

Sure, what’s Not-to-be-impressed?!

Well the point is, ….?

Brenda.

The point is, Brenda, you knew he was a prick from across the room, didn’t you?

That’s an unfair question, really. Don’t drag me into your fight.

We're brothers and seldom fight anymore, but we do enjoy quibbling.

Go ahead, say it. And don't worry your pretty little head, darlin’...
(Somewhere along the line Bud also bought into his marketing-persona and assumed that of a good-old-boy, even though we're from Wisconsin.)
...I'm a big boy and I can handle the truth. 

Well, since you put it that way, I’d have to say…yes.

Okay, fine. But now you know who I really am, you’re pretty damned interested...

Really?

I think she sees the Humberburger King Has No Clothes…

..ew.

I think. in her mind, she just caught a vision...

So whatd'ya say?

You, stay out of my mind. And you?…nevermind.

I can be damn convincing. I can change minds!

Not mine. You boys done?

Yep, we’re fine.

Hope you enjoyed it. Here’s the check. Take your time.

Suppose there was ten grand below that line?

What?!

You see what I mean?

Sure you got her attention, but then, are her intentions defined?

I like the way you talk. I’m off in half an hour. Can I buy you a drink so we can talk some more? …just talk...with those Intentions still undefined, mind you...

Sure. Bud? Bud? Don’t be sore…

Me sore? I ain't sore. The check and the chickee, they're both yours.

Then Bud got up and walked out the door.

You were right about him.

Can’t help himself…

NONIONIZED

Mad Apolologies

Yes there are nights like this

when he goes mad….

did you expect something else?

Perhaps you were mistaken 

Mad in his own mind

Maybe, too, in the view of others

But that seldom matters

with few exceptions

they know who they are.

In a bad state

Mad state,

right now

So…

fuck anyone who disagrees!

(…there he goes…such poor taste)

but why apologize?

no offense intended

just a head gone unattended

No apologies accepted

Not in this state

Of mine.

PERVERT WITH A MISSION

“There is nothing more driven than a pervert with a mission.”

“Are you suggesting…?”

“Not at all…you can allay your suspicions.”

“Why broach it if you didn’t mean it?”

“There was no implication….”

“Oh! Just an observation?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yet you cast dispersion…”

“Disagree. As in-offensive as I could possibly be.”

“I see…….sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Sorry we don’t agree.”

“Is there a point to all this? This repartee? Because I’m now taking it seriously.”

“Please, not personally…”

“You can bet, personally. Wouldn’t you if you were me?”

“Quiet. Here she comes…”
“Gentlemen. So sorry for the wait. I’m putting you at our best table, with my personal apologies.”

“No…it’s okay…really…really…”

“Please follow me.”

“Oh. What a body…heavenly” thought McGee as he gazed her glide, following, fixated, from the backside lusting, realizing Carter was right. Damn he.

She pulled his chair with an inward lean

The most luscious mounds he’d ever seen…

His breath escaped, he stood frozen…exposed…as his ardor rose.

“Oh lord, it shows…” said Carter with glee. As the room stood simultaneously, applauding in practiced unity,...including she, smiling wickedly.

“There is nothing more driven than a pervert with a mission!”

Damn that Carter...Cruel Joke...on me.

Yet a friend, is a friend, when a friend is in need,

and later, much later, she accompanied me quite willingly. 
Low and behold, 
first shy, soon bold
Insights gleaned
souls unfold
first she...then me...then she...then me...
on and on 
and obviously
We share the same 
Depravities.

Good man, that Carter. 

I owe him my wife.

It Pays The Bills

I want you to know

the light is on

where I reside

it is not dark

I do not hide

I abide my own rules

no demons to wrestle

no desires gone cold

bright enough to see to write

Whatever I am told

By voices  that come calling

To images that unfold

Eloquent moans from the inderground

Or Feeble musing by the less profound

Vaporous visages

Visiting

Knocking on a noggin

Maybe slow to open

But open just the same

It’s me

The shadow on your window shade

From the light cast by yellow vapor lamps on the blvd

There’s a lot of things a man should regret

Most I’d say is what he’s done to man

How barbarous They are

....okay, we...

...how cruel

and hurtful

and blind

To atrocity

But there are those

Might call it damn-lilly-squat-soft-thought

Or just plain

Victimism.

It’s the cruel view

The world in chaos

Carnivorous calamity

carnal culmination

Cravings

Ravings

Crude Carvings

Crass graffitti

Cave Paintings

Catastrophism

It’s me. I’m not here to cause you trouble

I just go where I’m told

...or land...by accident.

So, relax.

I can drift on down

That way...

follow the lights...

like I was never here

You never saw me,

never heard me through the door

The door you never answered

As I slipped by

I Hushed a whisper

‘The secret to the Secret,

And all the fruit it bore...’

But that whisper went unnoticed

Or was it sadly, just...Ignored ??

Damn man.
You came so close.

So slow to open

your mind.

There’s this guy down the street

Right around the corner

Going to pay him a visit

Much the same as you

Maybe this time he’ll listen

See, I’m his muse, too.

It pays the bills

And the bills are due.

TAKE ME HOME

Mary:  Have you seen how many pills Dad takes? My god!

Cara: The neighbor found him the other night. Weeping on the corner. Didn’t know where to turn.

M: How'd he get out there? My god! Who, Hal?

C: (shakes head) Hobart...

M: Shit.

C: Is he alright? ...Dad? Dad alright?

M: ...wiid swings, Hard to tell what's him or the meds talkin’. He swings hard in every direction...he called me a bitch whore cunt last week. that all I wanted was his money...stealing his life... and I was a disgrace to the family name. I cried for a day...maybe two...that one dug deep. But the nurses love him...just the sweetest old man....

C: Playing his fucking games again...

M: Always.

C: Should we get them all reviewed? Interactions or combinations? Side effects...

M: Yeah..again? Then what? Another round of something new that makes it worse and gives him grief. He's got enough going on. We've been through this enough...

C: What if we take him off?...Entirely?

M: He asked me that the other day. Woke up from his nap , his head still on the pillow, like it came to him in his sleep, he asked me straight out 'what if I stop the pills? Will I be in pain?'

C: I've seen him. He winds up tight like a ball of ropes, curled up inside himself clutching on to who-knows-what? Just tight stringy muscles, like ropes  wrapped around sticks, tightly bundled. Is he eating?

M: No. Some days he's ravenous, but, in general, no.  His day nurse...

C: Diane?

M: Yes.

C: I like her.

M: Me too. She asked if anyone has told him he can 'let go, now'? I told her that I've told Dad dozens of times - 'if i could end this for you, I would'. He was hurting and begging to go. I think he's afraid. I'm not going to judge him...

C: Says he wants to go see Mom...his 'dear wife'... that's what he calls Her to the nurses...what bullshit.

M: I know. But they had some good years in there...

C: Poor Ma. She didn't know.

M: Poor Mom. That fucking disease...

C: Should we take him off? ... Hospice?

M: I think we should have that talk.

C: With him? You think...?

M: I'd say, in the morning...when he's clear. He drifts out after lunch, and is a bastard at night.

C:Same pattern as last time.

M: Only worse. Less coherent. More angry. He can't tell 'sleep' from 'awake' so his anger carries over...

C: He said "this isn't the way it's supposed to be...".
 I said '...god doesn't let us make plans..." He calls me a smartass cunt bitch whore.

M: (ugh)...he's so fucking hurtful

C: He says 'If My Mother could see me now...she'd take me straight home!'

M: Momma's boy. Scared little Mama's boy.

C: Mean ass bully

M: ...and a mean ass bully,

Somewhere along the line, something got damaged. It was all rearranged....all deranged...wrong, yet erased from memory, just the same. In the grave before life's passing, a sad and lonely witness, to his own declining stage and ultimate demise.