Squatter Heaven (short fiction)

It gives one an erection long enough to knock the pot of gold out from under the rainbow, like a curling stone. Bing clack, under the prismatic arch.

She's an object of lust. We been seeing each other for about two months now. Together and seperate, we've been testing a series of herbal teas, all used for centuries, to methodically rejuvenate each and every organ and gland, brain and nerves included, like shining all shoes and pressing all seersucker. We've made it a project to fix as many organs as possible, without reserve.

.

The significant other and I have been shacked up in a miniscule one story house, barely more than an elongated shed with pitched roof, set on the mountaintop directly above Route 28. Down below us we have a rock garden composed of basements set deep the whole way down, half a mile, to 28. They picked that side of the hill clean of standing houses years ago, and no one's hot as pepper to build anything on an undermined plunging hill. Damn nice, the cement nooks and crannies cake walking at random down gentle dirt and weeds


A most unfortunately hostile neighbor hates me because one of his people had a motorcycle like mine, and got arrested. Then turned queer. And then he was killed. Killed. And he was riding a motorcycle like mine.
Not certain what to do. Embittered people have this tall trajectory. Always lands near by, damp and unwanted.


This relationship between Lorrie and me is doomed because my new number one has a kid with some tubular bingle-bungle growing out of his head, that being our sweet talk for long bony horns, and I'm affraid I am not prepared to commit to it's upbringing. He's a tiny triceratops. Call me a pig. The saddest thing for me is that my girl's family has high hopes for me and her. They are dazzled into thinking I'm responsible, and I don't mean to do it. I can't help having more personality than the general run. Appalachia. Will have to close the book on this before too much longer.


The new bike that I just got re-opened something that shut down a ways back. I used to be a lounge lizard, sunk to no where, and now that I'm mobile again, albeit on a 50cc generic motorcycle from off the internet, the seeds inside are germinating in the soil of endeavor. Can't make nervous types stay still