County Lines by Bob
Strange vibes. Ancient rhythms. Ghosts drumming. Dreams on fire.
Thickly swimming, swirling in compressed space, piercing time's
Flying free, spirit tossed. Eternity is now. Always has been. Always
will be. Forever has no beginning, no end.
Infinity, 8 sideways, circles looped, double 4's. Little Joe didn't
have a 40-gig hard drive. Perhaps he didn't need one. Perhaps he
Centuries in a thimble. Mankind erased, etched again, perceived
as the first time each time.
Phone ringing. Don't bother me. My rocket is loaded with nickels.
Past the Moon. Rear-viewing Mars. I'm sailing beyond the stars.
I saw the Pope once. He was old. I flipped channels, looking for
Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe.
Jesus walked upon the water so drowning men could see him.
"Bodhisattva, Bodhisattva, why did you die?"
"Die? Not I," replies Bodhisattva.
Dark in the park at night.
"What's under that light?"
"Caterpillar, caterpillar, why did you die?"
"Die? Not I," replies butterfly.
She is his sunrise, his sunset, his ace in the hole, his biscuits
and gravy. Cried when he gave her the check for his first story
About 100,000 subscribed to the magazine. Another 50,000 bought
it off shelves. Perhaps a few dwellers on the threshold would understand
his meaning. Perhaps. Strange how some see what's not there, while
others miss what is.
They lived like savages that summer in the woods. Tribal tent at
daybreak. Sleeping-bag bound, Taurus and Pisces in crystalline embrace.
Thick black coffee over an oak fire. Sizzling bacon. Three over
easy. Grits. Red wigglers in the Suwannee, from the Okefenokee to
the Gulf of Mexico.
If only she would have tied her shoes to the canoe like he told
her, they wouldn't be in Valdosta, buying another pair.
The worst thunderstorm in years, came out of nowhere, hit like
"Don't freak out and we'll make it back alive with no broken
He enjoyed pushing life to the edge, where truth, stripped of
all particulars, void of all formalities, could be found.
What he discovered within would be examined later, when there was
time for thinking, instead of participating in life completely.
Lightning flashed on all sides. He lit a Tareyton in the gushing
rain. He was good at such things.
He constructed a bomb out of household products when he was a high
school sophomore. Blew the awnings off the back of the house.
Dad was mad. The cops who investigated the explosion weren't happy
either. The judge told him to limit his experiments to chemistry
He liked English more than chemistry, much more, the way his teacher
taught it. She even taught him to appreciate Shakespeare. The Tempest
is hilarious when performed correctly.
Imagine, a redneck swamper digging an old English dude who's been
dead for centuries.
After blowing off the awnings, he joined a rock and roll band.
While they were trying to decide on a name for their group, he
suggested the Maggots. The other members called his suggestion sick.
He didn't care.
He knew and still knows, only one kind of music is worth playing.
Rock and roll over Beethoven. Tell Tchaikovsky the news.
Being from the deep south, the group settled on the Tropics as
He was the drummer. He was also the singer because he was the only
member who could remember all the lyrics, the result of liking words
more than drugs.
Far out, man. Pass it here. Who you trying to be, Humphrey Bogart?
James Cagney is just as cool. "I made it to the top of the
While playing at a sock hop, he quoted Shakespeare between songs
to show off: "What strong hand can hold Time's swift foot back?
None, unless this miracle have might, that in black ink my love
may still shine bright."
The audience hissed, booed, and threw whatever they could find
at him. He slung it back. A brawl ensued. The cops were called.
He didn't know it then. But he was a punk rocker 10 years before
Johnny Rotten hit the scene as a soon to be dead Sex Pistol. Smack
kills. Fire Burns. When it rains, the earth gets wet. Place that
Never clean a loaded .38 either. And eat everything on your plate
because they're starving in China. But how will me being fat change
that? Then I'll have to exercise.
I hate Bow Flex commercials. Hate. Hate. Hate.
Instead of killing bin Laden immediately when US troops find him,
and they will, lock him in a room and make him watch Bow Flex commercials.
After several days of that, he will gladly kill himself.
Terrorists. Anthrax. Martha Stewart. Toxic waste. The world is
a giant insane asylum where the most dangerous inmates have the
Sisters of the Day Church, swirling down Spirit Mountain from
empty rooms on twisted brooms, sweeping away the final rays of another
tedious day, into the darkness, out of sight.
Welcome the creatures of the night. Embrace them tightly. Hold
them near. Do not fear.
Einstein developed the atomic bomb without using a 40-gig hard
drive. Perhaps he didn't need one. Perhaps he did. Perhaps.
Overton County News
415 West Main Street
P.O. Box 479
Livingston, Tennessee 38570