Spiders All Over

There’s a body in the brush

With a still-swollen eye

And a tag around the hand

That says ‘Return Me’

I asked my sister

If she saw it

She said she did

But Mom pulled her away

And called the police

I said--

Did you scream?

She said she didn’t

But Mom did

Because the body

Had spiders all over

And Mom hates spiders

I said, Maybe it wasn’t the spiders

Or not just the spiders

Maybe the body

Made her scream

My sister said, No, it was the spiders

Just the spiders

Two years later

We found out the body

Was a gag

A joke

The police never told Mom

Because she ran right after

She called them

And never left a name

Or a number

We were all sitting out back

Sipping iced tea

Playing Monopoly

In the backyard

The first full day of summer break

And one of our neighbors who was over

Said something about

That dummy they found

Two years ago

In the brush

We all froze

We’d never talked about

The body in the brush
Or the spiders all over it

The whole thing was a prank,

Our neighbor said,

Nursing the iced tea,

One of my friends’ kids

Was mixed up in it

Kids, right?

He looked at me and my sister

When he said it

Even though by then

We were both

Well into our teen years

How’d they get the spiders on it,

My sister asked

The neighbor didn’t know

What she meant

The body, my sister repeated,

It was covered in--

But Mom dropped her glass

And it exploded

On the patio floor

Her hand was shaking

And nobody moved

Because glass

Was everywhere

A year after that

My sister had to be pulled

Away from the edge of a bridge

A car passing by

Saw her standing on the railing

Stopped

And managed to get to her

Right before she fell

She scratched and clawed at him

But he held tight

He was a former firefighter

And he told us later

That she wasn’t the first person

He’d had to hold on tight to

That didn’t want to be held

In the hospital

My sister wouldn’t answer

Any questions

But on her arm

Was a new tattoo

That none of us

Knew she had

One little spider

Crawling up her arm

I’m going to get more, she said

I’m going to get lots more

She fell asleep

Right after that

One strand of hair

Hanging down

In front of her right eye

That nobody

Dared

Touch

How I Want My Steak

I want my steak

To be sitting across from me

Sweating

Its eyes on my knife

Its udders utterly still

A fly buzzes

Around its snout

The steak still identifies as a cow

But I only see it for what it is

An entree

Every so often

Its tail wags

All the waiters in the restaurant

Hang back

Waiting--as waiters should

To see where this road

Will take us

The smell of the farm

Still radiates

Off the meal

As its tongue darts out

To slap its nose

This might just be a nervous tic

It would startle a meaker man

But I am no such man

I am hungry

I am a carnivore

The steak’s heart beats

Steadily

Its pulse a fascinating rhythm

My new favorite tune

A song for the ages

I picture it slowing

Then coming

To a sudden

Halt

The steak moves

The soup spoon around
Very uneasy

Very unable

To calm itself

The other diners

Chew on their medium rares

Their rares

Their--bile rising--

Well dones

They look at me

And ask themselves

Why I would dare

Take things this far

It’s none of you concern,

I’d like to say to them

I shall eat my dinner

How I choose

In whatever way I choose

Rare is respectable

For cowards and weaklings

I am a man

I eat my meat

While it still has dreams

While it still has memories

While it still feels that tug of hope

That might mean a reprieve

From its destiny

No plates are needed

A fork will suffice for cutlery

Even though I would gladly

Rip into my steak

With bare hands alone

I honor the meat

With my savagery

With my lack of hesitation

What’s going on now

As I sit mere inches from it

Is the dance that we do

Before the honeymoon
Before the feast

Before a glint in my teeth

Becomes a light so powerful

It outshines even the most squeamish

Of onlookers

They will see this is primal

This is commendable

This is right

I pick up my knife

I lick the sharp side of the blade

Not afraid of a little cut on my tongue

Eager to have my blood

Mix with the bovine blood

That will soon be spilled

I aim the dagger

I steel my resolve

I ask for forgiveness

For the indulgence I’ve enjoyed

In waiting this long

And then--

The cow rushes me

Knocking the table aside

Stampeding me to the ground

Stomping on my face and body

With its cobblestone hooves

Soon after

I am gone

My ghost trapped

Inside a painting

Hung on the wall

Near the men’s restroom

Meanwhile the steak

Eats a salad at a nearby table

And receives compliments

On its fine

Delectable

Physique

This Might Not Be Radio

     (A radio station.)

DJ D:  Welcome back to the five people who are still listening to the radio.  Probably at the doctor's office.

DJ E:  Shout-out to the doctor's office!

DJ D:  Before we play that song we played five minutes ago three more times, we're going to remind you that both DJ E and myself--DJ D--will be at Max's Hardware store this Saturday from 10 - 2 giving away DVD's of a movie you can stream on Netflix, keychains, and Grandpa Nick's Pizzeria coupons all--day--long!

DJ E:  Mmm I love me some pizza!

DJ D:  You think they'll give us extra pepperoni?

DJ E:  We can ask!

DJ D:  Maybe I'll ask.

DJ E:  You're so crazy, DJ D!

DJ D:  I know, I'm the crazy one.  You're the sweet one.  That's what makes this show tick.

DJ E:  (Laughs.)  I love my kids.

DJ D:  Anybody see that show last night that I can't stay up and watch because I have to be here at 5am?

DJ E:  I hear people were upset about that thing that happened.

DJ D:  Controversy?

DJ E:  Controversy.

DJ D:  Oooooooh Twitter.

DJ E:  Lots of Twitter.

DJ D:  And Instagram.

DJ E:  Snapchat!

DJ D:  People are mad.

DJ E:  Real people or people on Twitter?

DJ D:  Do real people still exist?

DJ E:  I don't know.  I've been stuck in this windowless room with you for over ten years now.

DJ D:  Didn't they used to replace DJ's all the time?

DJ E:  Yeah, back when it mattered.

DJ D:  Here's to being irrelevant!  Where's my airhorn?

DJ E:  I hid it from you after you gave me permanent hearing loss when the Patriots won.

DJ D:  Go Pats!  Go local teams!  How 'bout them sports?

DJ E:  I can't watch anything that airs after 4pm, and yet, we're expected to have all these thoughts on pop culture and current events.  This entire medium deserves to go extinct.

DJ D:  Speaking of going extinct, the Internet is telling me somebody put a dinosaur balloon in their yard and nobody knows why!  Isn't that wacky?

DJ E:  Sure is, DJ D.  Sure is.

DJ D:  That brings us to random facts from scientific studies that probably aren't legit.

DJ E:  Then why are we--

DJ D:  A recent study--

DJ E:  You know John Oliver did a whole thing on how these studies are actually harmful to--

DJ D:  --Found that heroin isn't that bad for you!

DJ E:  I don't think that's true, DJ D.

DJ D:  All I know is that it's an interesting fact we can joke about for two minutes, which is important because we're here for six hours a day doing nothing but talking and playing the same four songs over and over again.

DJ E:  Good point.  Heroin, huh?  Maybe I should try some of that.

DJ D:  DJ E!  You're the sweet one.  I'm the crazy one.

DJ E:  You're right, DJ D.  Maybe YOU should try some of that.

DJ D:  Maybe I already have!

DJ E:  You're so crazy!

DJ D:  Did you hear those two celebrities broke up?

DJ E:  I did--just now.  You just told me.  Darn, really loved those two.

DJ D:  This is that celebrity guy's fifth break-up in a year.

DJ E:  Wow, and I really loved all four of the other girls he was with and this girl.  Hahahaha I have no opinions that might rock the boat whatsoever.

DJ D:  Save those for the afternoon ride home, am I right?

DJ E:  Hahahahaha I just want to think things.

DJ D:  Don't we all.  Remember, in an hour, we're prank calling a guy who does furnace repair!

DJ E:  Why are we doing that?

DJ D:  Because it's that or interviewing that new K-Pop band that's coming to the event center.

DJ E:  Furnace prank it is!

DJ D:  By the way, call in right now if you want to win two tickets to see Train at the City Garden Show this Sunday!

DJ E:  We've been trying to give these tickets away for days and nobody wants them.

DJ D:  We would throw in some cash, but Spotify has murdered our entire industry, so at this point, we're pretty much working for free.

DJ E:  I work nights at the Sonic near the pharmaceutical facility just to make my rent every month.

DJ D:  That reminds me, tomorrow we're broadcasting all day from the new CVS on Lincoln Street.  We'll be giving out samples of FDA unapproved medication and playing the same four songs we've been playing for the past six months.

DJ E:  And DJ Missy Miss might stop by!

DJ D:  I thought she was still clinically depressed?

DJ E:  She is, but she heard about the free meds, and she's going to come check it out, because we don't get--whaaaat?

DJ E and DJ D:  HEALTH INSURANCE!

DJ D:  Later this hour, we're going to spend forty-five minutes talking about The Bachelor then see what color paint dries faster--blue or red.

DJ E:  Can I leave before then?

DJ D:  You cannot!

DJ E:  Since it's throwback Thursday, can we at least play a song that isn't one of the four songs we've been playing on a loop all day?

DJ D:  Sure.  Just make sure it isn't from anybody who's now considered problematic.

DJ E:  Cee Lo Green?

DJ D:  No.

DJ E:  Ignition Remix?

DJ D:  Nope.

DJ E:  Can I play something by Michael Jackson?

DJ D:  You are INSANE today, DJ E!

DJ E:  I'm really just tired.

DJ D:  You know what might wake you up?  A coffee from our good friends at Todd's Coffee.

DJ E:  Can't we have Starbucks instead?

DJ D:  No, we're going to have a cup of joe from OUR SPONSOR Todd's Coffee.

DJ E:  Didn't they close after the e coli outbreak?

DJ D:  They were, but now they're back, annnnnd they've got burritos now.

DJ E:  Why would a coffee place sell burritos?

DJ D:  I need you to GET ON MY PAGE, DJ E.  We are on this roller coaster of horror together, so please, STICK WITH ME.

DJ E:  Maybe we should take some calls.

DJ D:  We don't have any calls.

DJ E:  Are we sure we still have listeners?  My friend just texted me to say she's at her doctor's office, and they have Apple Music now, so she's listening to some jazz.  Maybe we could play some jazz?

DJ D:  No, we're going to play whatever song Ariana Grande wants us to.

DJ E:  Is it good?

DJ D:  It doesn't matter!

DJ E:  Can we go to traffic so I can use the restroom?

DJ D:  The traffic reporter works at Traffic.com now.

DJ E:  There's a Traffic.com?

DJ D:  Of course there is!  Who do you think is rebooting Tales of the Crypt?

DJ E:  What does Tales of the Crypt have to do with traffic?

DJ D:  What did a meth-dealing high school teacher have to do with classic movies?  Branding is a construct.  Time is a lie.  Is it Thursday or the day I can finally retire with a quarter of my paycheck?

DJ E:  Is it time to play the four songs again?

DJ D:  It is!  And when we come back, we'll check in with our friends over at the Franzen Ave Burger King to see if, like, anything is happening there.  Anything at all.

DJ E:  Are our microphones even on?

DJ D:  Who knows, DJ E?  Who knows?

(Shawn Mendes plays.)

     The End

Angie

I got to take you

Away from here

I got to take you
Somewhere

In a beat-up car

And let you cry

Against an open window

I got to take you

By the highway

To another California
One that likes to

Show its age

If you want

You’ll take your books
And your baby dolls

And cut-off jeans

And that diary you write in

That you keep

Behind the couch

Why would I

Try to drive

When I know

I’ll just forget

That there’s no place going

No place worth going

You had lobster tail in Maine

But the gas money is short

And the oil’s never been changed

I got you cigarettes

Plus a map

Plus the sound of Jimmy Hendrix

Making coin

On his guitar

Get your feet up

On the dashboard

Just relax

Just relax

Just relax and figure out

What you do next

You want to leave me

Like you left

Those other guys

You want to find a boat

And find a guy

And find another week

Where you can say

You’re scraping by

What’s the puzzle

What’s the prize

And when will you realize

That you’re not held up

You’re the one

Who holds the cards

And slows ‘em down

You got the game

You call the shots

You tell me where the map
Says to stop

I can’t see your eyes

Behind your long hair

The rain means the windows

Have got to go up

Let the coast disappear

Find the crops

Find the fields

Find a house that looks

Like nobody’s locked the door

In awhile

Hide out somewhere

Hum a song to yourself

Pretend there’s a guitar

To play something on

Take your better angels

Off your left shoulder

Sharpen the knife

Steel the resolve

Run the road

Gun the engine

We could have stayed

In California

But California changed

So now we gotta make

Our own California

In the beds

Of our accusers

Those who wash

But can’t get clean

When we reach the other ocean

I’ll let you lick

The salt off me

But it’s going to take time

It’s going to take lots of time

By then, there’ll be more people

Tucked away in the backseat

I hope you don’t get lost

I hope you don’t lose me

All the things I hope for

Are gifts

Under the tree

I hope wherever I take you

Is somewhere

You can’t bear

To leave