Waymore’s Butte

February 15, 2014

The following came to me in a blast– the quiet lightning. I wrote it down quickly after seeing a photo made to look like a western plains town in the 1950’s. I also was influenced by the new Damien Jurado album Brothers and Sisters of the Eternal Son as well as the Felix Baumgartner skydive record jump.

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The lady had silver blonde hair. The man had grown gaunt over the last 8 months–the night shakes-the silent screams. That’s how long it had been since i saw both of them–he with his high waist dark pants–jeans I believe. Her with her west texas free-style curls and that blasted patched vest.

The scrub brush was rough and only soft from a distance. Kind of like harsh words sometimes can soften over time–from a distance. Through the hazy mid-morning sun i saw the little town. It looked like something out of 50’s post war americana. The dinner and the TV show and all the proper dress. pleasant from a distance. No one smelled poorly or caused too much grief. All said yes ma’am and held the door for the next, even if a little too far behind. Everyone paid their taxes– their “fair share” they liked to quote.

I on the other hand was a couple miles out of town behind Waymore’s Butte– Chester County West Texas. I was cold and I had cut both legs up pretty bad on my escape. They had tied me to the bed in that unused room.

I knew if I jumped it would kill me but I was still considering it. They would never catch me. If they didn’t it wouldn’t be pretty. I wasn’t going to take it anymore.

The man and the woman and the silver curls. The dusty existence I was growing too found of. Always wanting a hot drink but getting none. White cups on the counter. Some of them stacked three high. The coyotes night call–stars.

I should have called her back. I was only going to be gone a little while, but they got in my way. They made me see red. When he left the silver balloon there was no sound. Only a cold unbreathable static.

I cover my face for a few minutes with my hand. Breathe out. Stars again. I see two large eyes in the sky. They rarely blink. They only stare down at me– mostly kind. Translucent and bizarrely immense.

I always see the eyes. The eyes that take you home.

– kyle

 

 

 


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