apart x iv

mr. danude had risen his way to the top the hard way, stepping on backs and breaking shoulders, stained with colors in only one shade, black or what was translucently covered up in a hole so deep you’d have to dig to china to find out. 

he sat at the head of the table. everyone wearing shades and resting their hands on the table as a sign of good will, a symbol of what could otherwise be a hostile and hasty threat .. hands at their side, holding and ready.

a big guy walked in, as was often the case, to whisper into his ear the latest news, and in an attempt to keep it together, mr. danude relieved himself by, in a somewhat controlled manner, slamming his fist down onto the table. 

”collier, any word with the guy down at the shop?” 

collier, a big man, seated further down and dressed in all black except for his large gold rings that he wore on almost every finger except for his right ring finger which was half the size of the others, shook his head. 

“well, you working on it or what? this shit is a fucking mess.” though he smiled wryly, only his right hand man seeing. 

collier cracked his knuckles. "i'll talk some sense into him." danude nodded.

"look, i know the heat is high and the eyes are looking in our direction. but this is business and if we ain't working, we ain't getting paid. don, i'm gonna need you to call in the big guys. i'm putting my vote in early. and hayes, bring in that chum from yesterday. it's time to plant some seeds into him and cut some strings."


laney showed up to the event dazzling, makeup and hair, her figure still what it was five years ago, probably due to the fact that as her smoking habit picked up, her appetite decreased and stress was enough of a workout for anyone.

jim caught her as she walked in, looking quite dazzling himself so that it stopped laney for a second, remembering what had once brought a sparkle to her eye as she looked at him. he kissed her on the cheek and dropped his hand to her low back as they walked in.

“play along.” he said.

they ordered drinks at the bar and attempted to scan the scene without making it apparent. 

“see anything?” asked laney in his ear, appearing to be kissing his ear.

it was hard to see anything unusual if you didn’t know what you were looking for. luckily, jim did. he nodded to the far east corner where two men in tuxedos stood straight and not talking. he took another sip of his drink and pulled laney along.

“what are you doing?” laney demanded of him. 

jim walked up to them stumbling with laney on his arm.

“hey you two. look like you could use a drink. let me get you something. what’ll you have?” he motioned to a server who came over. he was playing a drunken card and laney knew that this wasn’t a card you could always play right. she pretended to be annoyed at her drunken date and looked apologetically at them.

the guys didn’t look amused but took the drinks anyway, still standing straight and not talking.

“so who are you here for? the blase company or the blase bling?” jim asked as someone carrying a tray of jewels walked by. he took one of the necklaces and held it up, looking with distaste. “surely you two nice looking men must have finer taste.”

one of the guys took a step forward, clearly annoyed and ready to be rid of the two of them.

“or perhaps you’re interested in something else.” laney walked closer and talked into one of the guy’s neck, breathy and flirty. she winked at him and turned around to plant a fat one on jim. he tried to hide his surprise, but it seemed to go unnoticed by the two now shocked men who looked slightly more interested in the couple now.

laney stepped closer and traced her finger on the other man’s chest, revealing to him the rings on her fingers.

“look, we’re not interested in the petty dealings of those who here may consider themselves of the elite but are really just scraping by to even get in. i’m a woman of fine taste, and you two look like just the type to show a lady what she really wants.” laney reached into her clutch and pulled out a slip of paper, scribbled something onto it and handed it to them. “we’re looking in this price range.”

they looked down, read it, looked at each other, looked at her, then at jim. apparently, something of their size up matched, and they nodded them to follow along. laney breathlessly smiled and grabbed jim’s arm a little too tightly as if to say~ what the hell so we do now?!  

they were led into a hallway behind locked doors with dim lighting provided by wall sconces and the floor had a mid 20’s carpet lining it, still clearly in a condition maintained with the times. 

the two men opened a door at the end of the hallway after giving brief acknowledgment to the two other big ones on guard.  

laney thanked her lucky cards and dillon, one of the guys in the office that got her hands in touch with the gems they now wore. also hoping the tag on the dress she wore was still intact so she could return the thing tomorrow without too much of a dent in her credit.

she had gotten them through the door. now it was up to jim to get them out.  


just as in water,

falling down its drain

a tunnel of circle going around it

a floating body in orbit

or the mind in periscope, the view from around, 

still turning in one way

the last of it going under

popping sound of a bird calling

from dinosaurs’ time of waking

so many things we still say

the age of a tree in its limbs

tired eyes blinking

the body that fattens and then wanes

the moon that brings the blood

the lifespan of a spider

and the human’s web it spun



there is always a war waging within the one who wavers on a whim. between one choice and another or even of one and the many, of the line walking that falls onto either side at either time and sees back the line but cannot always find the footing toward it.


perhaps it was the feeling of fancy, that there would be something more when arrived at or that the getting there was so much of a fantasy that nothing when found would ever amount to the imagination of a far away mind. 


war is not always meant in walking, in holding shields or the unveiled sword but rather looking one way and then another and having the mind to see that feet don’t always walk along of their own accord. so as to return to human and choice, human and hand, the mold and holding its shape, shaping. 


perhaps there is not one and in the many the one can be found .. so that a silent answer there may be all we can see, that of cerebrum and cerebellum it is both not enough and enough of a marvel to mystify the meaning that would allow one to exist on in it forever. 

white rain

stood water’s edge, 

the only, a crane not near in sight  

rustled weather of a cloud and the loom of a horizon’s white rain  

where for shadow’s fin, the ring’s climb  

stilled in mask waiting

of dreams do wear the mallow of its night


stood only three by its edge, 

grandfather, the small child, grandmother  

she quiet, speaking in her stance, and him a whisper to the little one

”watch as it blows, for as it shifts you might find, wait where it stills, for there you will see it again changed, and in seeing it, so you become” 


little one skipped a rock. and counted, six

canyon's crevice

bodies breathe alive in ways made of the sand and its silt,

moving under soil and walking feet toward the void, or a crevice,

through which we find our ways down into

as animals around fires, we speak and laugh of things past,

as humor’s living finds the meaning in what makes up the mundane and of what the buzz of a beer may bring into light, the sometimes heavy intake to then

let it go again

at first, to walk into the group and see through eyes not yet open,

of question of coming together,

who we are and who we find ourselves to be as we cross ways,

where some strings may have been anchored for a length when others may still be finding their lateral stretch

and yet, in a dire time where as one again with what we came from,

the exhaust of moving limbs,

carrying again the gear of ages that we once crossed countries with, and chasing the sun in and out of canyon’s shadow, we find again the stream that even in running will sometimes dry but that in such a place,

people may know nothing of another and yet know all they need to so that something may tie them together such as the webbing, bound to rock or tree,

sending down the cascade of humans back into her crack,

held and yet falling

to then return back to,

to a routine of living that spins the world around,

to remember again our dreams of waking, and the gears that make it turn,

to think,

to feel all the rubbings and scratches of life’s itch,

and to grow lazy in laying through it or chasing the thing that’s too far ahead,

we blink our eyes and the canyon’s crevice leaves us, becomes us, but bestills us so that another time we might come back and feel only the silence of her ways, the slots of stillness and stopped thought of an animal’s body moving through space in exertion with the pack, that it may be there, in living more together, in living around, we sleep less as we return

notes from utah’s poison spring canyon, where the animal awakens and the human stills, where our packs come back together & renew once again the well once depleting, as we chase her cracks and sit in the void of canyon’s crevice

words to live

for it’s worth or planting .. as in growing older, learning with awareness, and having the conversations that are both hard to have or hard to hear, close and afar .. we see .. that there are threads that weave and when we forget to look at their pattern fabricating, we may fail to see that an intention of needle and thread is not always enough to direct the two together  


discernment is a word. 


and of it, i find these considerations as self notes and reminders that maybe others too share.


when in casting eyes upon, in and outward .. to consider ~ 

(as a first acknowledgment, we are all human, who have all done both good and bad things, things we are proud of and those we would rather forget)  


in so, i find these questions .. 

how do words meet actions (what do i say and what do i do)


is one (am i) learning and changing

how do i treat others  

what am i perpetuating (negativity, bad mouthing, assumptions, the divide)



thoughts are sometimes the seeds of a chaos uninterrupted, who cannot always be torn though they can be watched, and while the seed may rest there, it may lay dormant and distant from our fertile hands 


in our minds, we are all crazy and malicious and self demeaning and ambitious .. and yet, we become who we are in what we do and what we say with the waves of a tsunamatic thought that we may either ride or run from



in it’s final question, can i be okay with the faults of the many and the few, of those i love and the one i am .. in turn with the word ~ discernment .. are we growing?  

mental fortitude

an inclination toward thought

question of a purposeful position

the mental fortitude of the world

an insanity of big things that break down into a small action


and lapses .. lots of spaced time, between and in


\ could be found in the realms there

not in hands & or eyes flickered in blinking light,

in mind’s thought freedom, the freedom of thought, and its freedom from thought



the ages of learning and growing

the ages of questions .. still the answers end in unsatisfying ways

why is this .. the parent will answer, the child will ask again,  why is this .. the parent will answer .. until both do not know the answer any further, and it’s there that we reach for the thread tangible and yet slipping



hands and feet

long toes

mental fortitude

the ways of the radiance,

in getting there


flickered feelings


a small moment of breathing in it 

the collapsed image replayed



being young & figuring out .. the orientation isn’t as solid as “word”, it’s not always “image” sometimes “sound” and most of the time “passage”


the passage is still and yet it moves


the mind




passage is moving through its still filter patterned light

Copyright 2019 ⓒ / Forrest Gallagher