The Waterwood Box, 4

Catch up!

Eight of Adam’s friends showed up to help him celebrate the big one-three. There was Cory McAry and Juan Villacruz (Adam’s two best friends), Mike Figgit (whom everyone called “Monkey”), Seth Bourder, Grant Willem, Carlos Marquez (whom Adam didn’t really like but had to invite because he was Grant’s best friend), Don Crane, and Leon Oliver. All of the boys were sat at the picnic table, talking, joking, eating cake, and sweating profusely.

“Man, I wish it would rain, rain, rain, rain, rain,” Mike said.

“Me too, Monkey,” said Juan. “Then I’d get to mow the lawn and help my mom in the garden again. Oh, God, please let it rain.”

“Whatever. Like your fat butt couldn’t stand to do a little work.” All the boys laughed. Juan and Monkey were quick to tease each other.

“Hey, Adam, why didn’t you invite any girls to this party?” asked Carlos. Some of the boys murmured a similar interest.

The question took Adam by surprise. He hadn’t really thought about why. “Umm…I just didn’t know who to invite,” he lied.

“Yeah, right. More like you didn’t know any to invite.” Carlos elbowed Grant and took another bite of his cake. “I dumf thinf I’f efah…” Carlos paused, swallowed, then continued, “seen you with a girl, man. What gives? You like girls, man?” A couple of the boys snickered but quickly stopped once they realized this wasn’t teasing like that between Juan and Monkey.

Adam was getting uncomfortable. He didn’t like Carlos and Carlos knew it. “I just wanted to hang out with my friends. That’s all.”

“What’s your problem, Carlos?” Cory interrupted. “It’s Adam’s birthday. Quit being a jerk.”

“Hey, I was just asking, man. Jeez.” Carlos leaned over to Grant and whispered something in his ear. Both boys laughed.

Adam looked at Cory and silently thanked him. They’d been friends since first grade and now they were about to start their last year of junior high together. Cory and Juan and Adam. The Three Musketeers, Mr. Might called them.

The Waterwood Box, 4

Country Lament #857

“Don’t be afraid of death,”
she said
right when
she squeezed that trigger

The light came then
and blinded me
as my skull and teeth did shatter

Death, oh, death
She always finds a way
With her great, white wings
And the pretty songs she sings
She always finds a way

“I’m not afraid of death,”
I thought
before I couldn’t think no more.

The blood spilled then
and sickened her
so she fled
right through that door

Death, oh, death
She always finds a way
With her great, white wings
And the pretty songs she sings
She always finds a way

Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always finds a way
Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always gets her way
Yes, she always
Yes, she always
Yes, she always finds a way

Country Lament #857

Listen of the Week: Run the Jewels

Run the Jewels 3, by Run the Jewels

Even though it came out a few weeks ago, today is the official release date and good god a’mighty is this a monster of a record.

“By far the best produced record of their trilogy… RTJ3 is a reckoning” 
Pitchfork

“The most buzzed-about act in Rap. Hip-hop has seldom sounded this righteous.. 5 out of 5.” 
NME

 “The greatest exemplars of righteous chaos since Ice Cube dapped up the Bomb Squad.”
SPIN

“A riot in sound… two of the era’s most gifted MC’s.”  
Chicago Tribune

Their time is now.
The Guardian

Listen of the Week: Run the Jewels

Art Uprising: Desolate Country

Today is Friday the 13th, and what’s scary is we have one week until Donald Trump is the leader of the free world. Art Uprising is a project that began as a protest for those who believe in the power of art. This anthology, Desolate Country, celebrates the voices of those who find Trump doesn’t represent their ethics. Buy it today on Amazon, and let’s make it the best-selling book of the day to show that our voices matter! Like and Share! https://www.amazon.com/dp/1946358029/

An excerpt from my piece, “America Hates You, America” lies somewhere within Desolate Country.

Art Uprising: Desolate Country

The Waterwood Box, 3

Catch up!

“Adam! Get away from those presents!” Mrs. Might came around from the side of the house, a tangled, green, garden hose trailing behind her. “You’re supposed to be thirteen years old! You can wait to open your gifts until your guests arrive!”

“I wasn’t–”

“Don’t ‘I wasn’t’ me! I saw you about to open that box.”

“Who gave me this present, mom? I couldn’t find any card or name or anything. It isn’t even wrapped. Look.” Adam attempted to hand her the box. Mrs. Might took the box and set it on the table without once looking at it.

“You’ll find out later. There’s probably a card inside. Now go inside and see how your father’s coming along with the cake. It’s almost noon.”

“But, mom, that box is…weird.”

“No ‘buts’, goofball. In two or three hours, we’ll all find out about that box. Until then – inside, inside.” She smacked him lightly on the bottom, sending him on his way.

Adam went inside and tried to forget about the box but couldn’t. He went into the kitchen where his dad was decorating the cake. The cake had HAPPY 13th, TEEN-O written on it. Adam smiled and took a swipe at the frosting on one edge. His dad was always doing stupid stuff like this. One St. Patrick’s Day Mr. Might dressed up like a leprechaun and hid in Adam’s closet, waiting until Adam woke up to find him. When Adam finally opened his closet door, Mr. Might jumped out and ran past Adam screaming, “You’ll never get yer hands on me pot o’ gold!” A goof.

“Dad, do you know anything about that wooden box out there?”

“Nosiree. Wait, what wooden box?”

“Out on the gift table.”

“Nosiree. Wait, what gift table?”

“C’mon. Quit playing around. Out with my other presents there’s a weird, wooden box that isn’t wrapped or anything. There isn’t even a card.”

“You’ve got presents?”

Frustrated, Adam left his dad in the kitchen. Sometimes goofiness was a pain. Adam thought about clicking on the T.V. for a while but then he noticed that it was a quarter till noon. His friends would soon arrive for the party. He ran upstairs to change clothes and comb his hair.

—-

The Waterwood Box, 3

Kansas City Beckons

In mid-sized cities across America, one of the best ways to retain their creative community is to offer support, both civic and financial. This pilot program aims to do both and because of such ongoing support, Kansas City is considered an arts destination.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/58757060e4b0f8a725448359?timestamp=1484095849356
Come on over. I will take you out for BBQ and beer.

Kansas City Beckons

The Waterwood Box, 2

Catch up!

The Might family prepared for Adam’s birthday party all morning. They hung streamers, blew up balloons, and set up the folding table with lots of goodies. Mr. and Mrs. Might had indulged Adam this year by allowing him to have such a big party. Adam was grateful and glad to have his parents around. Some of his friends had it bad when it came to their families. Mr. and Mrs. Might had fights and they sometimes yelled – typically over silly things – but, when it was all said and done, the Mights loved each other and Adam knew it.

Barefoot, Adam walked around the backyard, his long toes helping him scout out sticks and large rocks to clear off the lawn. He was sure that his friends would want to play some touch football or soccer even if got to be ninety degrees in the shade. Adam and his friends never seemed to think much about the weather. When it was cold, they  wore more clothes, then went outside. When it was hot, they put on shorts and flip-flops, then went outside.

He picked up sticks and stones and hurled them out toward the back fence. Eventually, he found himself near the table his mom had set up for gifts. There were already lots of presents stacked upon the table; a few from his parents and others sent by relatives. As Adam paced slowly alongside the table, however, his eye caught something that stopped him in his barefoot tracks.

He noticed a box on the table that stood out from the other gifts. First, the box wasn’t wrapped at all. Second, there were no ribbons or bows holding the box together – no decoration whatsoever. Third, the box seemed to be made of wood. Adam picked up the box. It is wood. This is weird. No card. He flipped the box over a few times then shook it. Nothing moved inside. His curiosity got the best of him. He put his hand on the lid and –

The Waterwood Box, 2