XXVII.
Heyh hoh, heyh hoh, heh! heh! heh! Oowwwhhh!
Heyh hoh, heyh hoh, heh! heh! heh! hoh! heh! heh! heh
Some people have ringing in their ears I hear some people see visions
and recurrent dreams. I have recurring sound sequences hear voices,
music, snatches of song with no bells on my fingers or rings on my toes.
It doesn't bother me usually all report and no command but when the
records stuck it can get irritating. The heyh hoh heyh hoh heh heh heh!
is not so pleasant, those cries of panic bring up memories people running
about in dread before that lively business streets cars stalled in the
middle of the road doors opening and closing of their own accord
sometimes sounds of breaking glass. The dragon born.
My senses stretched to the limit then since master
brought me back with
him in late 99 schism in place ten years behind the times my friends
all
so young. First job master gets has us living in Detroit through it
all the
sounds which seem to live in my skull bringing it back to me now -
heyh hoh heh! heh! heh!
The police said there will be repercussions, and
they happen none too soon.
I wanted to stay home, but putting on some clothes I make my way to
school
The Michigan Central School of Horticulture and Botanical Research
Ltd and
find my teacher crouching in his overalls smiling at me like a baby.
I look around
the beds trampled carrot and radish harvest gone pits of earth
remaining the
computer screen a dark sky with one central star the sound it makes
like the
gong of the temple bell tolling the end of the day in the graveyard
next to our
house in the land of my bringing forth the years of xfertilising
records reports and
geneology fallen into the fissure now.
I scream and run out into the street. I have a
shovel in my hand there's an odor
in the air I don't like the hair on my back on end my tail puffed up
three times
its normal size the harvest in my stomach stolen a pit there too
remains. I run to
the next building to smash my favorite slot machine the bank's
automatic teller
blinks at me greenly close your eyes let fear hyperactivate my whole
body a sledgehammer.
Coin of the realm inside.
Snatching it up I run back home climb over a mine of silent cars
sleeping at traffic lights, the old man next door standing in the
hallway a beret on his head in his limp hand a gun hanging, such
a
humble man. "It happened, " he says, "Now I'm the only survivor
of the National People's band." I ask for an autograph, run off
to
find the master slumped across the table run to the window
looking
for something, a tool maybe, scanning the street I wish someone
would phone, break into this dream - I pick up the receiver but
it's
dead too.
We can't stay here now. Master agrees and we
leave, we go even easter,
move to New York City. I show sHe the money but I say not to
worry
we can sell our bodies for food till we find a place, till I can grow
a cash
crop until a university there gets back online so we lock the
apartment
as good as we can we put on as many clothes as we can, sling a pack
on
our backs it begins to snow when we turn around to look back up the
street.
Walk south out of the city joining a trickle of
strangers - at the time I think
the only ones left alive. Two days out a van picks us up - repat
hippies
master calls them they just look like old people in old clothes to me
kind
and generous old people and me with never no grandparents near me
lies
in the back of their van and purrs while sloshing to sleep to the
sounds of
liquids in jerries and plasticans lulling me into a new location I
love.
New York was calm by the time we reached it, and 2
months later we went
back and fetched the remnants of our previous existences.