Tuesday

They now at it once again.

At the grindstone. At work. And so they toying. With the next day on the next scene the next chapter next book next song next place next town next country next life next body next patient next client reader buyer banker real estate agent. The next house the next plot of land. The next lot. The next open space ranch farm.

They now at it. She and he going at it duking it out. Playing the scene out. Saying the lines. Performing the piece the music the song the number. Playing dead. And gone. Vacated. Vacationing. Emptying out. Clearing out and moving out and on down the road. Moving on down the lines of the railroad tracks like that freighttrain. Moving like mad like a machine like a factory. Moving like a robot. Moving like a mountain. Moving like a planet. Moving like a ghost. Moving like magic. Moving with ease with no resistance whatsoever like in a vacuum. Moving instantly. Moving now. Here. He with her. Loving her and touching her and kissing her. She allowing and wanting and inviting his kisses. Inviting them in. And she looking at him and seeing him and hearing him and feeding him lines. Feeding him his food. Fueling his heart. Feeding love to his heart. And feeding it and she feeling it and feeling him feeling his love feeling his fire feeling the heat of his heart. Together they feeling the stillness the quietness the peace. Feeling the fineness. Feeling dandy and rich and healthy. Feeling alive. Feeling on fire. Feeling hot. Feeling not cold. Not cold but hot. Feeling the heat. Of the kitchen. Feeling all on top of the world. They together falling more and more deeply and deeply in love. Falling all the way in. And they loving the falling. And the falling and the speed of the love and the being there in it. She and he feeling like human beings. They feeling human. They finally in the end feeling free.

* * * * *

Feeling good. Feeling well. Feeling out of hell. And into heaven.

Feeling her love. Having felt the bullet going into his chest. And his chest all tight from the shot.

They feeling the hard ground beneath their feet.

They feeling the heat.

The pressure.

The energy.

The excitement and the anticipation and the buzz and the eyes spying on them.

People taking their picture photographing them documenting them charging them indicting them accusing them judging them labeling them pigeonholing them. Shelving them. Sizing them up and measuring them and fingerprinting them and jailing them locking them up handcuffing them and drugging them and interrogating them.

Questioning them.

Convicting them of a bank robbery they may or may not have committed.

Convicting them.

Convicting them of being criminals.

Animals. Uncivilized. Pirates. Crooks. Murderers. Scum. Trash garbage filth.

Convicting them of being convicts. Convicting them of being cons and ex-cons and con jobs and a con woman and a con man. A con couple. A couples of cons. Liars thieves cheats and cheaters and bad people. No goods.

An enemy. An enemy to be feared. An enemy to be spied upon. An enemy to be assassinated. Killed. Eliminated. Exterminated. Extinguished.

Washed up has beens right fielders bench warmers.

Poor.

Broke. Run down. Rotten. No good. Not any good. Not worth anything. Not not not. Not this not that. Not and not and not. Not worthy. Not note worthy not mentionalbe not honorable but instead...

Evil.

Awful.

Wannabes. Amateurs. Rookies. Too big too small too hot too cold too abstract too realistic too romantic too good to be true too this too that too skinny too fat.

They convicted.

Locked up and jailed. Handcuffed and shackled. Feared.

Bucked.

Counted.

Limited.

Bound and gagged. Shut up and quieted. Silenced. Offed. Written off. Lost causes. Hopeless. Horrendous and deplorable and despicable.

Dead.

Gone.

Six feet down under. Expired passed on and died. Done for. Goners. Shot. Used and used up and thrown away passed up and forgotten and rotten and useless and worthless. Black dark scary. Haunted and hounded and dogged. Stuck and sucked and tarred and feathered and booed and jeered and cursed and hated and hurt and whipped and chained and bound and gagged and punked. Made fun of. Laughed at. Satirized. Imitated copied joked about parodied. Caricatured. Drawn. Spit upon. Despised.

They not loved nor not liked.

They discarded and dismissed and dissed and ignored and walked all over and all upon.

They not respected nor not received or invited.

In fact they tossed out the door and onto the street.

But then...

But then by some strange bizarre twist of fate twist of plot twist of asfault in a long straight road twist of time and space twist of string theory in mathematical practicalities they suddenly...

Celebrated.

And prized and praised. They...

Admired and fed by the Feds by the Federales and invited and housed and clothed and dressed and gowned and respected and revered. And instead of tarred and feathered they starred and fĂȘted. And wined and dined and entertained. And sought out and chased and seen and heard. Touched. Not taunted but touted. Paraded and displayed and gawked at and hawked and sold and hacked but not attacked.

Prized praised transported rewarded set free let loose turned loose turned out and the covers and sheets of the room in the hotel turned down so that they could get a good night's sleep fully relaxed and ready to take on a new day.

They invited to join the club. They offered a bundle. They offered a lot of loot.

Being no longer being given the boot. What a hoot. What a hootenanny. What a party! What a celebration!

Man O Man. Woman O Woman. Woman O Man. Mano y Mano. Hand to Hand. They hand in hand...walking down the street...walking along the beach. Walking and walking and walking and walking and talking and singing and conversating and laughing and smiling. Enjoying and liking and loving. Giving and giving and giving and giving and receiving and giving and giving and giving and giving and giving and giving and giving in spades. Giving in abundance. Giving in freedom. Giving and giving and giving and giving. They giving it to each other. They giving themselves to each other. They giving themselves to the world and the world giving itself to them.

Giving it to them good.

Letting them have. Socking it to some. Punching them and they gleefully and giddily taking and receiving those self same punches. And then they drinking some red Hawaiian punch afterwards.

And maybe perhaps a little nip a little sip of Kentucky straight Bourbon whiskey. Wild Turkey...say. The dirty gooble gooble kickin chicken bird. Neat...say. In a nice glass. A little bit good for the old ticker you know.

And then followed buy a glass of red wine for the win. Cabernet Sauvignon. Full and bodied. Thick and rich. Hot and heavy.

With this sweet saucy little finish.

Thank you Lord. Thank you thank you thank you.

The goods being delivered. And received...and passed on. Being enjoyed and liked and savored. And favored. Preferred. Requested. Filled and fulfilled.

The goods. They being given. And given and given. So much so that the bads been forgiven and forgotten. The goods given endlessly and freely and easily and naturally and smoothly. Automatically now always and forever and ever and amen. And amen and amen and hallelujah and hallelujah and glory and even gory and so therefore bloody and messy and dirty like the bird. And nasty and wild wild wild and wicked.

Monkey Money


If the words of this little sample taste of the one hundred pages of this book have moved you in any way perhaps you might wish to konsider making an inquiry of any kind by way of Kash Kold and Hard to The Publisher aka BiggBank at BiggBankBizz@gmail.com. Thank You. And Thank You And Again Thank You. So Much. Many Thanks. For Everything. E V E R Y T H I N G. Everything. Most Especially For The Stuff That Is Kalled Love.