Magnolia

Just when I think we’re in the clear I see the dark days and God will send signs. “Hey, hey, can you help me out?” I gave no response. “Hey, I’m homeless can you help me out here?” Usually my policy is to engage and offer help like the directions to the shelter or maybe just a word or two but this was a side street and not my usual route and be damned if I wasn’t in a bad way so I declined contact. “I hope this fuckin’ comes back at you karmically?” A Karmic curse. I scanned the ground for dead tree limbs or stones. My blood has been running hot. But I kept on as a second curse was thrown. It was a test and this was a demon. There’s no way really to tell, being there no other witness, whether this happened as reported or was a partial construct of imagination. My fears of late have faded to a dullform reality, even a confidence, and keenly I can see this change has spirits worried. I made it another 20 yards, found a stone and turned to be certain I wasn’t followed. The street was empty and the bum recessed. But the curse stuck. It attached itself like magnetized iron to _ _ _ _ ‘s curse. “You’ll get yours you’ll see. You are a bad person.” I knew I wasn’t but I find that vitriolic hatred fascinating. A curse is a horrible energy and very effective to empath’s, of which I am one. I call the empathy a curse. Donna calls it “like the best curse ever.” It helps to have some other perspective.

When I got to the bar I switched my plan from beer to whiskey and got deep into it. The bar was not my usual Monday night and despite my efforts to get it going I left to return to routine, resisting all the while the desire to look for demons to smash. “Yo, my Monday night!” called the barkeep. I was the only fool in the joint and they know me as the Monday night. Most Monday nights a party follows – arm wrestling tattooed Italian semi-yuppie types with sufficient form to hold down the place. Not this night. Instead I watched ultimate fighting between metal videos. “I got to admit, I like to watch guys beat the fuck out of each other.” “Me too” the barkeep nodded. “It’s better than war I think. Just let guys pound the shit out of each other. There should be a cage on every corner.” This filthy city was making a beast out of me. “Look, watch this blonde dude.” “You mean that pretty boy?” “Check it, that pretty boy is bad ass.” He was, it wasn’t but a minute before the other guy was knocked out with medics crowding round. The whole scene was sufficiently gay enough that I started texting. It wasn’t long before I was reporting all my hopes and fears to Philly. Philly was a love interest turned confidant and just crazy enough to get it. Crazies have an effect on me. “Babe, if I’m not hooked up and you’re not hooked up by July, you’re mine. We’ve got like two days in the city then off to Atlantic City and hopefully a day at the ocean.” “Ok, deal.” I had the vaguest of thoughts that she may be an angel – I know because she has guts, demons are cowardly. We exchanged banter and I left to take the long way home, the whole way, straight through disease and up the brick, stone and concrete to a creaky bed and a date with Magnolia.