Mercy thinks about the person that has left her. The person that has simply walked right out the door. Mercy thinks about the person that she is now in love with, the person that last night said no. Mercy thinks about all the times she has been told no in her life, which is not many. When she was young someone told Mercy, told her that all she had was a pretty face, lose 15 pounds, 15 pounds was always the magic number. But, really, you don't have to worry about that, you're a girl, girls always get laid.
Mercy thinks about the first time she hung out with the person she is in love with. She remembers that the table was weirdly divided by what she said out loud to this person "its so funny, all the boys on one side and all the girls on the other" and the person said I'm not a boy, making the demarcation that struck Mercy dumb. She had nothing to say. Don't just run off at the mouth, don't just say things, Mercy, don't just say things.
The person she is in love is not in love with her and it makes her sad, Mercy is sad, why aren't you in love with me the way I am in love with you?
Mercy asks herself in the mirror. She tries on lipstick. If she is in front of the mirror, she is putting on makeup.
Mercy is at a dance party, it is late at night, this person keeps dancing up against her body, keeps rubbing close like a stitch, keeps almost touching lips, keeps almost touching lips.
There was a time that this person would kiss Mercy whenever she wanted this person to, in the middle of a bar, in the middle of a party, it didn't matter, kiss me Mercy, kiss me Mercy. Everyone always wanted to kiss Mercy at one time in her life.
This person no longer wants to kiss Mercy, this person says they are too good of friends, this person says that they just can't do that anymore, this person can't risk the friendship, because it won't just be kissing, it won't just be kissing, it will be more, you know it will be more, Mercy, you know, look at me, say something, you know it will be more, it will be more than we want it to be, we will fuck and then it will get weird and then you won't talk to me or something and whatever, don't make this weird, no, please don't make this weird.
Mercy texts Patrick #1 to silence.
Mercy texts Patrick #2 to silence.
Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy, even though her daddy's laying in the hospital bed in the dining room. Sometimes Mercy texts her daddy just to her her daddy's ringtone "You're waaay to beauuuutiful girllllss..."
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Friday, September 28, 2012
Mercy (Ether) (Impatient)
Call a physician.
Mercy says that she is going to kill herself and all of the Queens say baby, you are just hungover, you are just so hungover, baby don't be talking all that shit about dying, you don't know nothing about dying. How selfish can you be, talkin all this shit about dyin, when yr daddy is dying, you know that shit is true, yr daddy is on his death bed and all you is talkin about is dying. I can't believe it.
Mercy watches a War Against Drugs commercial that talks about meth and shows a girl that looks like her cutting her wrists because the meth voices told her to and so the meth voices told her to and
her mom is like LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, and its like, jesus, right, look at what she's done, she's the crazy one, not me, Mercy thinks, this girl is nuts, some voice told her to cut her wrists and run them under hot water because she smokes meth.
Yes, I guess so, Mercy reads in the paper a dude out in the country who ate his baby's face off because voices were telling him to do so because of meth.
What side of the brain does meth work, Mercy asks Anita Hard Cock when Anita is over dropping off the laundry. Anita and Hillary Clitton trade off doing the linens so Mercy doesn't have to.
Honey, who knows with that stuff, one second yr alright and the next second yr a monster. That shit'll make you crazy.
Anita Hard Cock had a boyfriend who was on Teena, she called it, Teena was his first girlfriend, his only girlfriend, his only love, Anita said, and she locked Anita in a room one night in this basement of his house and tied her up and hit her with a bullwhip so many times she passed out.
Did that really happen to you? Mercy asked, embarrassingly quickly, as if she was skeptical of the entire story.
No, I just made it up for you, what do you think, fucking a.
Apply Artificial Respiration
Patrick #2 is Red Cross trained and he wanted to practice on Mercy, she is remembering their last night together before he left for Alaska. Let me show how to breathe into a person properly, he said. He carried protective mouth gear in his wallet, you just never know, he says to Mercy, you just never know. It's his favorite saying you just never know, Mercy says, you just never ever know when you'll need to protect your heart.
When Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, she tried to apply mouth-to-mouth, she tried to apply to apply mouth-to-mouth. Nothing worked, nothing worked.
Nothing ever works the way I want it to Mercy thinks daily.
Also Hot Applications
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What does it mean to apply heat.
Where do you apply heat.
When told to apply heat, how can you, how can you.
Apply heat, how can you apply heat.
We trade text messages back and forth and we say to each other I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF because we are hungover, because we are once again for the 10th day in a row hungover. I understand why alcoholics kill themselves, I understand why coke addicts kill themselves, I have been up for a few days, I have been up for a few weeks, I understand now why in this weird clarity, why people kill themselves, I don't have many pills left, I am sick and I am hungover, o, the despair, o, the despair, the suffering. We suffer, don't we?
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What and where and how.
How do you apply heat. Why and what.
An application as request, an effort, sustained, mediated.
Massage Extremities
Patrick #2, when getting medical training, when getting CPR training, when getting Red Cross training, when getting all the training to live alone in Alaska, was first a massage therapist, was first a massage therapist.
If Patient's Face is Pale
It is when you lose all the color in your face that you become paranoid that people believe that you are not what you seem. The color in your face is indicative to any unsupported principles you may feel that make you inferior. Sometimes I get really jealous when I know that you don't actually want to hang out with me, sometimes I get really jealous when you hang out with other people.
Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy at a bar where the bartenders are too smug and the barstools too low. Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy and Mercy is not listening, Mercy is nodding off mostly because she is tired and her father hasn't been sleeping well at night, waking up in night terrors and pulling all of the tubes from his arms.
Patrick #1 says "Look, I'm just really jealous of you babe. I want you all to myself. When you hang out with other people it makes me feel like you don't love me anymore. Do you love me babe? You do, don't you, everything I do is perfect and so being with you means its perfect. Don't you agree, babe?"
Mercy's face is pale when she sees herself in the partition reflection of their booth. Her long dark hair is full and bouncy and won't stay behind her ears even though she pushes it back, push pushes it back, out of the way. She looks long in the mirror. She looks uneven. Her eyes are at half-mast. The straps of her dress won't stay up.
Mercy, are you fucking listening? Jesus, its like talking to a brick wall sometimes. I'm going outside to have a smoke, do you want to join me or are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some dumb idiot
What did you say, Mercy asks? What did you just say.
I said, are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some riot act or are you gonna come with me
Mercy swore swore he said dumb idiot. She swore up and down.
Why would I call you a dumb idiot? Patrick #1 asks when she confronts him once outside. Look baby if I was gonna call you a name, it'd be more hurtful than that.
Lower The Head
Mercy father has ordered that a priest come and serve his last rites every Friday and then he and his queen girlfriends can have fish sandwiches together. They all gather in black professional skirt suits that really do look like they came out of the real Hilary Clinton's wardrobe and long black wigs of all shades and styles, and hats that looked like an funeral on Easter. They would sit politely in their purples and deep blues and browns and blacks and once the priest was done Amber Wavves, normally the only one not crying by the end, would thank the priest and pay him and see him out of the door.
Mercy's father would always keep his eyes shut and mouth closed until the priest had left as a ritual, more than anything else. Mercy's father told her that he kept his eyes closed in a type of prayer. When he opened his eyes, once Amber would come back in the room and the other queens would hustle to the bathroom to change clothes to eat dinner in, he said that it would be bittersweet, especially as he got sicker. He wanted to die in his funeral garbage garb, as the Priest was doing the last rite, which technically didn't count he'd tell Amber every week, this technically doesn't count, he needs to die sooner than later for this to count and Amber would hush him and kiss his bald head. We got to thinking that the Priest really liked coming and was kind of sad when Mercy's dad didn't die. It would have been a miracle to the priest if, in the third-to-last rites, his eyes didn't open. Then it would have been the last last rites, and it would have worked, it would have been fine, it would have been for real last rites.
Mercy says that she is going to kill herself and all of the Queens say baby, you are just hungover, you are just so hungover, baby don't be talking all that shit about dying, you don't know nothing about dying. How selfish can you be, talkin all this shit about dyin, when yr daddy is dying, you know that shit is true, yr daddy is on his death bed and all you is talkin about is dying. I can't believe it.
Mercy watches a War Against Drugs commercial that talks about meth and shows a girl that looks like her cutting her wrists because the meth voices told her to and so the meth voices told her to and
her mom is like LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE, and its like, jesus, right, look at what she's done, she's the crazy one, not me, Mercy thinks, this girl is nuts, some voice told her to cut her wrists and run them under hot water because she smokes meth.
Yes, I guess so, Mercy reads in the paper a dude out in the country who ate his baby's face off because voices were telling him to do so because of meth.
What side of the brain does meth work, Mercy asks Anita Hard Cock when Anita is over dropping off the laundry. Anita and Hillary Clitton trade off doing the linens so Mercy doesn't have to.
Honey, who knows with that stuff, one second yr alright and the next second yr a monster. That shit'll make you crazy.
Anita Hard Cock had a boyfriend who was on Teena, she called it, Teena was his first girlfriend, his only girlfriend, his only love, Anita said, and she locked Anita in a room one night in this basement of his house and tied her up and hit her with a bullwhip so many times she passed out.
Did that really happen to you? Mercy asked, embarrassingly quickly, as if she was skeptical of the entire story.
No, I just made it up for you, what do you think, fucking a.
Apply Artificial Respiration
Patrick #2 is Red Cross trained and he wanted to practice on Mercy, she is remembering their last night together before he left for Alaska. Let me show how to breathe into a person properly, he said. He carried protective mouth gear in his wallet, you just never know, he says to Mercy, you just never know. It's his favorite saying you just never know, Mercy says, you just never ever know when you'll need to protect your heart.
When Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, when Mercy's mom's heart stopped, she tried to apply mouth-to-mouth, she tried to apply to apply mouth-to-mouth. Nothing worked, nothing worked.
Nothing ever works the way I want it to Mercy thinks daily.
Also Hot Applications
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What does it mean to apply heat.
Where do you apply heat.
When told to apply heat, how can you, how can you.
Apply heat, how can you apply heat.
We trade text messages back and forth and we say to each other I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF because we are hungover, because we are once again for the 10th day in a row hungover. I understand why alcoholics kill themselves, I understand why coke addicts kill themselves, I have been up for a few days, I have been up for a few weeks, I understand now why in this weird clarity, why people kill themselves, I don't have many pills left, I am sick and I am hungover, o, the despair, o, the despair, the suffering. We suffer, don't we?
Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat. Apply heat.
What and where and how.
How do you apply heat. Why and what.
An application as request, an effort, sustained, mediated.
Massage Extremities
Patrick #2, when getting medical training, when getting CPR training, when getting Red Cross training, when getting all the training to live alone in Alaska, was first a massage therapist, was first a massage therapist.
If Patient's Face is Pale
It is when you lose all the color in your face that you become paranoid that people believe that you are not what you seem. The color in your face is indicative to any unsupported principles you may feel that make you inferior. Sometimes I get really jealous when I know that you don't actually want to hang out with me, sometimes I get really jealous when you hang out with other people.
Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy at a bar where the bartenders are too smug and the barstools too low. Patrick #1 is saying all of this to Mercy and Mercy is not listening, Mercy is nodding off mostly because she is tired and her father hasn't been sleeping well at night, waking up in night terrors and pulling all of the tubes from his arms.
Patrick #1 says "Look, I'm just really jealous of you babe. I want you all to myself. When you hang out with other people it makes me feel like you don't love me anymore. Do you love me babe? You do, don't you, everything I do is perfect and so being with you means its perfect. Don't you agree, babe?"
Mercy's face is pale when she sees herself in the partition reflection of their booth. Her long dark hair is full and bouncy and won't stay behind her ears even though she pushes it back, push pushes it back, out of the way. She looks long in the mirror. She looks uneven. Her eyes are at half-mast. The straps of her dress won't stay up.
Mercy, are you fucking listening? Jesus, its like talking to a brick wall sometimes. I'm going outside to have a smoke, do you want to join me or are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some dumb idiot
What did you say, Mercy asks? What did you just say.
I said, are you just gonna keep staring at yourself like some riot act or are you gonna come with me
Mercy swore swore he said dumb idiot. She swore up and down.
Why would I call you a dumb idiot? Patrick #1 asks when she confronts him once outside. Look baby if I was gonna call you a name, it'd be more hurtful than that.
Lower The Head
Mercy father has ordered that a priest come and serve his last rites every Friday and then he and his queen girlfriends can have fish sandwiches together. They all gather in black professional skirt suits that really do look like they came out of the real Hilary Clinton's wardrobe and long black wigs of all shades and styles, and hats that looked like an funeral on Easter. They would sit politely in their purples and deep blues and browns and blacks and once the priest was done Amber Wavves, normally the only one not crying by the end, would thank the priest and pay him and see him out of the door.
Mercy's father would always keep his eyes shut and mouth closed until the priest had left as a ritual, more than anything else. Mercy's father told her that he kept his eyes closed in a type of prayer. When he opened his eyes, once Amber would come back in the room and the other queens would hustle to the bathroom to change clothes to eat dinner in, he said that it would be bittersweet, especially as he got sicker. He wanted to die in his funeral garbage garb, as the Priest was doing the last rite, which technically didn't count he'd tell Amber every week, this technically doesn't count, he needs to die sooner than later for this to count and Amber would hush him and kiss his bald head. We got to thinking that the Priest really liked coming and was kind of sad when Mercy's dad didn't die. It would have been a miracle to the priest if, in the third-to-last rites, his eyes didn't open. Then it would have been the last last rites, and it would have worked, it would have been fine, it would have been for real last rites.
Mercy (Ether) (Narrative Trajectory)
Call a physician, apply artificial respiration, also hot applications, massage extremities, if patients face is pale, lower head.
DAY #1
The day of poison. I am infected by this, the day of poison. My head is lulling, I am lulled. I cannot fall asleep fast enough, it is morning, it is evening, the third day, the seventh day. I am lulled and then I am not. Things are going faster then fast then stop. The ravens and the crows are not the same, we can tell the difference between them by the build of their bodies, how they carry themselves, the build of their caws, they are outside the window one of each and looking for things to eat. There is nothing. Cars drive by and they simply hop out of the way and they do not run fast or are very concerned. Listen, you can hear it. The treatment for poison is folded in five directions, you ask which way is south as if I understand internally somehow a compass is needed. If you were to drop me in the middle of the mountains, I would not be able to find my way home, I would die. I was with this person once that parked outside of the lecture hall we were in together for a lecture on something or other and they could not find their car, we were driving all around trying to find their car, and we figured out they had parked very close, very close, their father was dying to in Tuscaloosa, their father lived in the outskirts of where we were, their father had loaned them a car, they were driving it and now they could not find it but we found it next to the lecture hall, this internal sense of direction.
No internal sense of direction. Where is south and I do not know.
DAY #2
My head is lulling but I have stopped vomiting. You are out to lunch with my cousin and I ask you to call me back later and you don't. Now we are sitting next to each other on my couch and I am feeling terrible still. The poison of the Devil's Milk. I fold the treatment five times and five different directions and I wear it on my person. I wear it close to my bosom. I wear it closer, closer.
DAY #3
There is a book called something by Goethe and it lays under my mattresses and I am scared because I dream in the quotes and I dream in the quotes from the book by Goethe and I haven't ever read it before so I stick it far far far underneath my bed where I cannot see it but in my dreams I have dreams about it where is the book where is it in a house in my dreams it is on the bedside table and when asked when asked what is on your bedside table I say Goethe but I don't have any idea and it looked like some Greek shit, some Greek shit in a play form in a play, it is a Greek shit play, I am jealous of everyone that knows more than me about Greek mythology and that is everyone so I am jealous of everyone, the curriculum changed before we got to Greek mythology. Folded five ways and under my bed with Goethe, next to a powder that is magical next a powder that is magic with crushed scorpions, a healing Hoo-Doo powder to make protect you, a healing powder. Goethe and a large line of magic dust and folded five ways instructions on how to alleviate poison.
DAY #4
Five directions and all points South and now its on my body and I am wearing it on my body for days and I can't understand which points on the body I am shooting for, a quite literal shoot, this shooting for, five directions and all points on my body and I went to sleep and had no dreams because I do not dream and I tell people that and once a girl said she couldn't date me because I do not dream, she said that she had to be with a dreamer, she had to be with someone who dreams. The other day someone came back into my life that shouldn't have and now I am talking with them all the time, even in my dreams, I am talking with them all the time. I am in my body and the poison treatment is also in my body. I took it off of my body and chewed it so I could eat it so it would be in my body so I could carry it around with me always. Always in my body the poison treatment that when I am lulling and vomiting I know why.
DAY #5
Again, in my body, on my body.
DAY #6
This treatment lives inside of my clothes, inside of my body, is constantly falling out of my chest, is constantly falling out of everywhere, I live with it in and outside. Exception: the day it was under my bed, under my bed, the day it was with Goethe and the crushed scorpion magic dust of protection, they were all together, these five points south, these five directions of fold. Call a physician. Apply artifical respiration. Hot applications. Massage extremities. Paleface (mob). Lower head. Pray.
DAY #1
The day of poison. I am infected by this, the day of poison. My head is lulling, I am lulled. I cannot fall asleep fast enough, it is morning, it is evening, the third day, the seventh day. I am lulled and then I am not. Things are going faster then fast then stop. The ravens and the crows are not the same, we can tell the difference between them by the build of their bodies, how they carry themselves, the build of their caws, they are outside the window one of each and looking for things to eat. There is nothing. Cars drive by and they simply hop out of the way and they do not run fast or are very concerned. Listen, you can hear it. The treatment for poison is folded in five directions, you ask which way is south as if I understand internally somehow a compass is needed. If you were to drop me in the middle of the mountains, I would not be able to find my way home, I would die. I was with this person once that parked outside of the lecture hall we were in together for a lecture on something or other and they could not find their car, we were driving all around trying to find their car, and we figured out they had parked very close, very close, their father was dying to in Tuscaloosa, their father lived in the outskirts of where we were, their father had loaned them a car, they were driving it and now they could not find it but we found it next to the lecture hall, this internal sense of direction.
No internal sense of direction. Where is south and I do not know.
DAY #2
My head is lulling but I have stopped vomiting. You are out to lunch with my cousin and I ask you to call me back later and you don't. Now we are sitting next to each other on my couch and I am feeling terrible still. The poison of the Devil's Milk. I fold the treatment five times and five different directions and I wear it on my person. I wear it close to my bosom. I wear it closer, closer.
DAY #3
There is a book called something by Goethe and it lays under my mattresses and I am scared because I dream in the quotes and I dream in the quotes from the book by Goethe and I haven't ever read it before so I stick it far far far underneath my bed where I cannot see it but in my dreams I have dreams about it where is the book where is it in a house in my dreams it is on the bedside table and when asked when asked what is on your bedside table I say Goethe but I don't have any idea and it looked like some Greek shit, some Greek shit in a play form in a play, it is a Greek shit play, I am jealous of everyone that knows more than me about Greek mythology and that is everyone so I am jealous of everyone, the curriculum changed before we got to Greek mythology. Folded five ways and under my bed with Goethe, next to a powder that is magical next a powder that is magic with crushed scorpions, a healing Hoo-Doo powder to make protect you, a healing powder. Goethe and a large line of magic dust and folded five ways instructions on how to alleviate poison.
DAY #4
Five directions and all points South and now its on my body and I am wearing it on my body for days and I can't understand which points on the body I am shooting for, a quite literal shoot, this shooting for, five directions and all points on my body and I went to sleep and had no dreams because I do not dream and I tell people that and once a girl said she couldn't date me because I do not dream, she said that she had to be with a dreamer, she had to be with someone who dreams. The other day someone came back into my life that shouldn't have and now I am talking with them all the time, even in my dreams, I am talking with them all the time. I am in my body and the poison treatment is also in my body. I took it off of my body and chewed it so I could eat it so it would be in my body so I could carry it around with me always. Always in my body the poison treatment that when I am lulling and vomiting I know why.
DAY #5
Again, in my body, on my body.
DAY #6
This treatment lives inside of my clothes, inside of my body, is constantly falling out of my chest, is constantly falling out of everywhere, I live with it in and outside. Exception: the day it was under my bed, under my bed, the day it was with Goethe and the crushed scorpion magic dust of protection, they were all together, these five points south, these five directions of fold. Call a physician. Apply artifical respiration. Hot applications. Massage extremities. Paleface (mob). Lower head. Pray.
Mercy (Ether)
Ether (call a physician, apply artificial respiration, also hot applications, massage extremities, if patients face is pale, lower head)
Mercy is drunk and texting Patrick #2 in Alaska, where he does not have cell phone service, where he hasn't had cell phone service in months. I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF, it says. In 3 months. I am going to off myself. in three months. This is the trajectory of the messages. Two weeks later, when is off the mountain and checking is voicemail messages and checking his email messages at the library, he will get a flood of texts that say these things but out of order I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF in three months I am going to off myself I am going to off myself I am going to off myself. In 3 months. In 3 months. I'M GOING TO KIL I am goi 3 mon, they are getting cut off, they come in a wave and then are incomplete.
What does Patrick #2 do with this information? What does Patrick #2 do now two weeks later. She is still writing letters, he is getting one or two every other day, when he picks up his mail he has so many letters from Mercy. Patrick #2 is sad but does nothing and does not respond. Patrick #2 does not respond even through letter, its like Mercy had not sent those texts in the first place.
Mercy does not really want to die. She is drunk and eating a tuna fish sandwich from 7-11, she is eating Cool Ranch Doritios, she is drinking orange mango juice and watching Chasing Amy, a film that is offensive, now that she really watches it with adult eyes, its actually really offensive. Mercy is crying but she does not know it. She drunk and texting Patrick #2 says I'm going to kill myself and she doesn't mean it. She is tired of watching Jessica H. Christ die. She is tired of watching herself wither away. Death doesn't mean as much now that everyone is dead she thinks to herself but that thought doesn't make sense, she misses her father already and he is not even gone yet. Patrick #2, why tell Patrick #2 she is going to kill herself, what can he do, is it because he is so far away, yes, its because he can't do anything, or won't do anything.
She tried to pull this shit on Patrick #1 once and he called the police. She was a few cities away and he found the area code and called the police and the police showed up to her apartment where she was in her underwear and eating a taco bell burrito with sour cream that was all over her tank top and she had to convince them that she was fine, she was fine, she was fine. Don't ever tell Patrick #1 anything, he will call the police.
Patrick #2 won't call the police, he won't even get the texts in real time.
Patrick, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
Patrick, IN THREE DAYS.
Not really, though. Mercy is going to eat the tuna sandwich and change her dad's catheter and wig and bathe him with a sponge and wash his testicles because she has to, she was lectured by the caregiver from the hospital, I know its uncomfortable but you have to wash underneath everywhere to prevent all kinds of things like sores and disease. Wash her dad's balls and comb all of his wigs that are now all on face stands surrounding his bed like gallery scene in the Return to Oz film where the Ozma has all of her heads and faces on display. But these styrofoam heads are faceless, they simply hold shape to the various hair of her father's her father's various identities. You can't just keep the hair in a box, it won't hold, it'll look like absolute garbage, her father told her.
Mercy is drunk and texting Patrick #2 in Alaska, where he does not have cell phone service, where he hasn't had cell phone service in months. I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF, it says. In 3 months. I am going to off myself. in three months. This is the trajectory of the messages. Two weeks later, when is off the mountain and checking is voicemail messages and checking his email messages at the library, he will get a flood of texts that say these things but out of order I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF in three months I am going to off myself I am going to off myself I am going to off myself. In 3 months. In 3 months. I'M GOING TO KIL I am goi 3 mon, they are getting cut off, they come in a wave and then are incomplete.
What does Patrick #2 do with this information? What does Patrick #2 do now two weeks later. She is still writing letters, he is getting one or two every other day, when he picks up his mail he has so many letters from Mercy. Patrick #2 is sad but does nothing and does not respond. Patrick #2 does not respond even through letter, its like Mercy had not sent those texts in the first place.
Mercy does not really want to die. She is drunk and eating a tuna fish sandwich from 7-11, she is eating Cool Ranch Doritios, she is drinking orange mango juice and watching Chasing Amy, a film that is offensive, now that she really watches it with adult eyes, its actually really offensive. Mercy is crying but she does not know it. She drunk and texting Patrick #2 says I'm going to kill myself and she doesn't mean it. She is tired of watching Jessica H. Christ die. She is tired of watching herself wither away. Death doesn't mean as much now that everyone is dead she thinks to herself but that thought doesn't make sense, she misses her father already and he is not even gone yet. Patrick #2, why tell Patrick #2 she is going to kill herself, what can he do, is it because he is so far away, yes, its because he can't do anything, or won't do anything.
She tried to pull this shit on Patrick #1 once and he called the police. She was a few cities away and he found the area code and called the police and the police showed up to her apartment where she was in her underwear and eating a taco bell burrito with sour cream that was all over her tank top and she had to convince them that she was fine, she was fine, she was fine. Don't ever tell Patrick #1 anything, he will call the police.
Patrick #2 won't call the police, he won't even get the texts in real time.
Patrick, I'M GOING TO KILL MYSELF.
Patrick, IN THREE DAYS.
Not really, though. Mercy is going to eat the tuna sandwich and change her dad's catheter and wig and bathe him with a sponge and wash his testicles because she has to, she was lectured by the caregiver from the hospital, I know its uncomfortable but you have to wash underneath everywhere to prevent all kinds of things like sores and disease. Wash her dad's balls and comb all of his wigs that are now all on face stands surrounding his bed like gallery scene in the Return to Oz film where the Ozma has all of her heads and faces on display. But these styrofoam heads are faceless, they simply hold shape to the various hair of her father's her father's various identities. You can't just keep the hair in a box, it won't hold, it'll look like absolute garbage, her father told her.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Mercy
Mercy lights her bangs on fire on purpose one morning just because she wants to smell what burnt hair smells like. Her father has been breathing erratically for days, her father is going to die any minute.
Mercy is remembering one Christmas Eve when her father made her go to a candle light service at midnight at a local church. He, in fact, had to work a can drive for a local bar in full drag that night and would be off at 1030, enough to time to put on a tie and put Mercy in a dress and go to the church for the service. It was disappointing to Mercy, it was nothing at all like what she thought it would be. She thought the entire sanctuary would be dark and the service would take place like a funeral pyre, everything lit from the floor to the ceiling, welcoming the Christ child into the world from his teenage mother's womb. But instead the entire service was under the hot fluorescent lights and for the last ten minutes of the service they turned the house lights down and passed out big chunky candles for everyone to light their very tiny birthday-like candles on. Mercy got her hair too close to the chunky candle. Mercy's bangs went up in smoke. Two old ladies behind Mercy hit Mercy on the head with their hymnals during O Come O Come Emmanuel.
When Mercy got home, her father gave her a bag of ice and put her in his lap and they cuddled in front of the television and he chuckled at the old ladies swatting her poor little head. They turned out all the lights and watched TV in front of the christmas tree and its lights and Mercy thinks to herself today, that was the most perfect Christmas ever. No other Christmas had ever been that good.
She wants to smell the smell of burnt hair. She doesn't remember exactly what it smells like. She takes the kitchen torch she uses to light the stove and click click clicks the lighter until it lights slowly and softly and woosh takes her bangs out. She watches her bangs burn fast, all the way to her scalp, until she dunks her head into the full sink below her.
Mercy is remembering one Christmas Eve when her father made her go to a candle light service at midnight at a local church. He, in fact, had to work a can drive for a local bar in full drag that night and would be off at 1030, enough to time to put on a tie and put Mercy in a dress and go to the church for the service. It was disappointing to Mercy, it was nothing at all like what she thought it would be. She thought the entire sanctuary would be dark and the service would take place like a funeral pyre, everything lit from the floor to the ceiling, welcoming the Christ child into the world from his teenage mother's womb. But instead the entire service was under the hot fluorescent lights and for the last ten minutes of the service they turned the house lights down and passed out big chunky candles for everyone to light their very tiny birthday-like candles on. Mercy got her hair too close to the chunky candle. Mercy's bangs went up in smoke. Two old ladies behind Mercy hit Mercy on the head with their hymnals during O Come O Come Emmanuel.
When Mercy got home, her father gave her a bag of ice and put her in his lap and they cuddled in front of the television and he chuckled at the old ladies swatting her poor little head. They turned out all the lights and watched TV in front of the christmas tree and its lights and Mercy thinks to herself today, that was the most perfect Christmas ever. No other Christmas had ever been that good.
She wants to smell the smell of burnt hair. She doesn't remember exactly what it smells like. She takes the kitchen torch she uses to light the stove and click click clicks the lighter until it lights slowly and softly and woosh takes her bangs out. She watches her bangs burn fast, all the way to her scalp, until she dunks her head into the full sink below her.
Mercy
Patrick #1 has hit a dog and is calling Mercy. Mercy is helping her father into tight argyle stockings with the rip in the knee the never gets bigger. Mercy is helping her father into a light green wig that is curled on the end but flipped like an alien Marilyn Monroe. Mercy is helping her father into a wedding dress that he got at Tender Love Consignment Shop to wear tonight on stage, the last night he would be able perform. He has six different costume changes. He has 11 different people helping him. Tonight is his last night on stage at the ClamShell Cocktail Lounge. Tonight he will say good bye to his drag family of thirty years and retire his girl job in the City, retire his girl job as he had retired his boy job long ago. This was my dream he would tell Mercy, this was my dream, to retire from my boy job to be able to do my girl job full time, this was my dream, and now its gone.
Patrick #1 says into the voice mail frantically Mercy, where the hell are you, Mercy how could you not be here for me right now, this dog is dead Mercy, dead, the dog is dog, I killed a dog Mercy.
Mercy's father is all glitter and sparkle. Mercy's father is all diamonds. Mercy's father has his signature look, has his Marilyn Monroe look, has his Jackie O look, has his Liza look, has his Mardi Gras look, has his "smalltown gay bar in Michigan" look, has his Goldie Hawn Laugh-In look, has his Cher from Sonny and Cher look, has his "how Britney Spears will look like 60 years from now" look. When Mercy was a teenager, her father's drag closet was just one row of hangers and one shelf in his main closet in his room. Now her father's drag closet is one of the guest rooms converted with two walk-in closets on either end and built in shelves on the walls for bags, shoes, and accessories.
Mercy's father's bag collection puts hers to shame--designers from all walks of life. Mercy's father was big in the in-crowd party scene at one time in the City, which is where her met her mother initially, a country girl away for the weekend to check out an art college. A perfect disguise Mercy thought over and again in her life, but Mercy's father had always said the love and admiration was real between he and her mother, that he respected her as an artist, the he absolutely loved her work and that is what made him fall in love with her. They had Mercy out of Mercy. They had Mercy out of a true compassion for each other.
Patrick #1 is frantic into the phone, calling 1, 10, 15, 25 times. Where are you, I need you, this dog is dead, what do I do.
I called 911, was that what was I was supposed to do, oh God.
I can't believe you aren't answering the phone, this is important, this dog is dead, I'm out in the middle of nowhere and its late and oh God where are the police
MERRRRRCCCCYY WHAT THE FUCK WHERE ARE YOU JESUS CHRIST the cops are here Mercy the cops are here
Mercy's father steps out of the rented stretch Cadillac and pushes herself up on to the pink sparkling walking stick they will use all night, a walking stick with different emblems and colors to match every outfit. Mercy's father is lucky they don't have to have an oxygen mask on or be in a wheelchair. Tonight will be one of the last nights that they won't be without oxygen or a wheelchair. But, Mercy and her father don't know this yet, tonight is his night.
Patrick #1 says into the voice mail frantically Mercy, where the hell are you, Mercy how could you not be here for me right now, this dog is dead Mercy, dead, the dog is dog, I killed a dog Mercy.
Mercy's father is all glitter and sparkle. Mercy's father is all diamonds. Mercy's father has his signature look, has his Marilyn Monroe look, has his Jackie O look, has his Liza look, has his Mardi Gras look, has his "smalltown gay bar in Michigan" look, has his Goldie Hawn Laugh-In look, has his Cher from Sonny and Cher look, has his "how Britney Spears will look like 60 years from now" look. When Mercy was a teenager, her father's drag closet was just one row of hangers and one shelf in his main closet in his room. Now her father's drag closet is one of the guest rooms converted with two walk-in closets on either end and built in shelves on the walls for bags, shoes, and accessories.
Mercy's father's bag collection puts hers to shame--designers from all walks of life. Mercy's father was big in the in-crowd party scene at one time in the City, which is where her met her mother initially, a country girl away for the weekend to check out an art college. A perfect disguise Mercy thought over and again in her life, but Mercy's father had always said the love and admiration was real between he and her mother, that he respected her as an artist, the he absolutely loved her work and that is what made him fall in love with her. They had Mercy out of Mercy. They had Mercy out of a true compassion for each other.
Patrick #1 is frantic into the phone, calling 1, 10, 15, 25 times. Where are you, I need you, this dog is dead, what do I do.
I called 911, was that what was I was supposed to do, oh God.
I can't believe you aren't answering the phone, this is important, this dog is dead, I'm out in the middle of nowhere and its late and oh God where are the police
MERRRRRCCCCYY WHAT THE FUCK WHERE ARE YOU JESUS CHRIST the cops are here Mercy the cops are here
Mercy's father steps out of the rented stretch Cadillac and pushes herself up on to the pink sparkling walking stick they will use all night, a walking stick with different emblems and colors to match every outfit. Mercy's father is lucky they don't have to have an oxygen mask on or be in a wheelchair. Tonight will be one of the last nights that they won't be without oxygen or a wheelchair. But, Mercy and her father don't know this yet, tonight is his night.
Mercy
Patrick #2 cuts himself and Mercy has always known this. When they first met it was endearing, like something she could just break him of, like something he did to be charming, like buying flowers only these petals scabbed over, became bruises, became scars.
Patrick #2 started out by just making intricate designs in his skin when he was upset, but into high school and into young adulthood it had grown into a slash habit, as many times, in as many places, there was no more discretion.
So, it comes as no surprise, then, that Mercy was never eager to fight or make him upset. Unfortunately, though, everything upsets Patrick #2. He no longer drives a car anymore, he no longer has a cell phone, he stays up all night on speed and plays the acoustic guitar and make stencils with an X-acto knife and manilla folders. He made Mercy one that said Gustave Flaubert once in Old English Letters. Just dab a cotton ball with paint and put it on something, it'll look sweet, he told her but she never did, it sits in her desk, he looks at it from time to time.
Patrick #2 has not stopped cutting himself, Mercy is staring at him expressionless from across the table. Here is where she always ends up, across the table from people. She is across the table with her back to the door, a rarity. She doesn't like to sit with her back to the door, she likes to see who is entering behind her, if she is going to be murdered she would prefer to see her killer's eyes. The same reason why she goes to the OBGYN in October above all months, in case she is dying, she can die in Fall.
She is across the table with her back to the entrance in a cheap but clean diner across town but in the middle so neither of them had to go all the way across town to see each other which means no sex because what was the point in meeting in the middle if all they were going to do was go to one of their houses far away?
Patrick #2 has blood under his fingers.
Patrick #2 started out by just making intricate designs in his skin when he was upset, but into high school and into young adulthood it had grown into a slash habit, as many times, in as many places, there was no more discretion.
So, it comes as no surprise, then, that Mercy was never eager to fight or make him upset. Unfortunately, though, everything upsets Patrick #2. He no longer drives a car anymore, he no longer has a cell phone, he stays up all night on speed and plays the acoustic guitar and make stencils with an X-acto knife and manilla folders. He made Mercy one that said Gustave Flaubert once in Old English Letters. Just dab a cotton ball with paint and put it on something, it'll look sweet, he told her but she never did, it sits in her desk, he looks at it from time to time.
Patrick #2 has not stopped cutting himself, Mercy is staring at him expressionless from across the table. Here is where she always ends up, across the table from people. She is across the table with her back to the door, a rarity. She doesn't like to sit with her back to the door, she likes to see who is entering behind her, if she is going to be murdered she would prefer to see her killer's eyes. The same reason why she goes to the OBGYN in October above all months, in case she is dying, she can die in Fall.
She is across the table with her back to the entrance in a cheap but clean diner across town but in the middle so neither of them had to go all the way across town to see each other which means no sex because what was the point in meeting in the middle if all they were going to do was go to one of their houses far away?
Patrick #2 has blood under his fingers.
Mercy
Amber Wavves, Anita Hard Cock, and Kay Mart are all coming over today to have tea with Mercy's father, even though he can't even sit up straight, even though he doubles over in pain and won't be able to speak clearly and his face is slurred because of the pills he's on and he doesn't move his mouth even though she's pretty sure he can, she's pretty sure he has talked himself right out of being able to use his mouth in his head, but he can if he tried, why can't he just try.
Mercy took her father to the grocery store and he asked to wear a large blonde wig that always made him feel like Goldie Hawn in Laugh-In. I love Goldie Hawn, he says to her. Mercy's dad has lost all of his front teeth in the most recent years of his life, mostly due to poor hyigene as a child but also due to the medications he's been taking to keep this disease at bay. The doctor's said this would happen, Mercy's father says, the doctor's told me that I could lose my hair, lose my teeth. In the long blonde wig, Mercy does his make-up carefully. Doing make-up takes a very long sometimes these days, sometimes up to an hour and half. Mercy's dad's hands shake so bad and when he's trying to put on eyeliner or mascara or eye lashes, it ends up everywhere, extremely whore-y cat-eyes her father would say and laugh, I mean, I'm all about the whore look but only when I have somewhere to be!
Mercy's father had a date with Judge Judy at 4pm most days. When he was dancing, he would record it and then, later, DVR-it right to the TV so when he got home he could have his Judge Judy time. Mercy would wake so scared at the laughter that seemed to come from nowhere, there would be dark silence and then there would be her father's laugher, high-pitched and full of joy, laughing at the dumbass that just got his ass strung up! he's say to no one, fucking right, Judy, you get it girl! he would say, booming laughter. Mercy longed for that laughter now, she longed to wake in her childhood bed in her childhood home to her father coming in from work and laughing along with Judge Judy.
Mercy's father worked all night shifts, because, its hard to be a drag queen during the day, this isn't Mexico! her father would say but what does that mean, Mercy always wondered, is there a daytime drag culture down there that she's never known about? There is a framed picture of Ru Paul in boy drag and her father in girl drag and they are both laughing on a beach in Puerto Vallerta, Mexico, at a festival, it is day time, or at least it looks like day time, and Mercy is always confused when her father says things like "this isn't Mexico!" or "this isn't Vietnam!" which, he was too young for Vietnam anyway. He worked during the night, from 1030pm to 4am and when or if he was out of drag by 1am, it was a good night, he said, because he got paid regardless of hours, people like to be entertained, he says, people love to be entertained. They don't give a shit, as long as people are entertained.
Mercy's father's routines are exactly the same all the time, his father's routines are mostly about married people and his shows revolve around young women in the audience getting married. About how wearing a white dress is a lie. About how wearing a white dress insinuates virginity and c'mon honey, oh lord, c'mon, you are no virgin, look at you! LOOK AT YOU! and everyone always laughs. Everyone always laughs because you are saying the things that they can't say to their faces, and who is going to disagree with a mob of 6'3 men in high heels and wigs and make up screaming at you. No one. People love to hear what they can see in themselves and don't want to deal with.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked once over some burnt toast. Dad was not a good cook, her mother was always the best cook, her dad didn't even know how to cook toast. He believed in all of the conspiracy theories around appliances like toasters and microwaves, that they were being radioactively controlled by the government to take over your mind, they are mind control devices, why in the world would we use such things. So toast goes into the oven to bake and it is usually black on one side and burned on the other and because he made such a big deal about it, Mercy's Dad would eat two pieces and pretend its good but Mercy would not. That is one thing Mercy's dad always did, though, was stay up or get up (if he was home from the club early enough) with her to send her off to school, even it if was with a piece of burnt toast and water bottle of orange juice, to go.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked.
No, because I am a man, her dad answered.
But you just dress like a woman for money? Mercy asked.
Precisely. I am a man but I dress in both man drag and woman drag, everything is a performance, every outfit is just an outfit.
Do you like men when you are in boy drag and women when you are in man drag? she asked.
No, I like men all the time, no matter what drag I am in. Now, hurry up and eat that toast before it gets cold, you have a bus to catch.
Why did you and my mom have me? Mercy asked.
Because you were sent to us by the stork, how can we say no? he said with a smile only the devil could have created. One day, you were on our front porch. We can just send you back to where you were made, now can we?
Mercy loved that answer, even though it never made any sense. Her whole life all she heard was that she was dropped on the front porch and these kind people would take care of her. She always thought to herself a barrage of questions she would never put to her father about if that's true, then why didn't they just sent her to a group home? Why did they keep her? Why be a father when you don't want to be? If I didn't come out of my mother and wasn't created by you two together, what's the point?
Now Mercy, don't be so sad. Don't be sad, Mercy. You'll always be my baby girl. You are my baby girl. That's why we named you Mercy. You were never a punishment. You were always the forgiveness for my wrong doing.
Mercy took her father to the grocery store and he asked to wear a large blonde wig that always made him feel like Goldie Hawn in Laugh-In. I love Goldie Hawn, he says to her. Mercy's dad has lost all of his front teeth in the most recent years of his life, mostly due to poor hyigene as a child but also due to the medications he's been taking to keep this disease at bay. The doctor's said this would happen, Mercy's father says, the doctor's told me that I could lose my hair, lose my teeth. In the long blonde wig, Mercy does his make-up carefully. Doing make-up takes a very long sometimes these days, sometimes up to an hour and half. Mercy's dad's hands shake so bad and when he's trying to put on eyeliner or mascara or eye lashes, it ends up everywhere, extremely whore-y cat-eyes her father would say and laugh, I mean, I'm all about the whore look but only when I have somewhere to be!
Mercy's father had a date with Judge Judy at 4pm most days. When he was dancing, he would record it and then, later, DVR-it right to the TV so when he got home he could have his Judge Judy time. Mercy would wake so scared at the laughter that seemed to come from nowhere, there would be dark silence and then there would be her father's laugher, high-pitched and full of joy, laughing at the dumbass that just got his ass strung up! he's say to no one, fucking right, Judy, you get it girl! he would say, booming laughter. Mercy longed for that laughter now, she longed to wake in her childhood bed in her childhood home to her father coming in from work and laughing along with Judge Judy.
Mercy's father worked all night shifts, because, its hard to be a drag queen during the day, this isn't Mexico! her father would say but what does that mean, Mercy always wondered, is there a daytime drag culture down there that she's never known about? There is a framed picture of Ru Paul in boy drag and her father in girl drag and they are both laughing on a beach in Puerto Vallerta, Mexico, at a festival, it is day time, or at least it looks like day time, and Mercy is always confused when her father says things like "this isn't Mexico!" or "this isn't Vietnam!" which, he was too young for Vietnam anyway. He worked during the night, from 1030pm to 4am and when or if he was out of drag by 1am, it was a good night, he said, because he got paid regardless of hours, people like to be entertained, he says, people love to be entertained. They don't give a shit, as long as people are entertained.
Mercy's father's routines are exactly the same all the time, his father's routines are mostly about married people and his shows revolve around young women in the audience getting married. About how wearing a white dress is a lie. About how wearing a white dress insinuates virginity and c'mon honey, oh lord, c'mon, you are no virgin, look at you! LOOK AT YOU! and everyone always laughs. Everyone always laughs because you are saying the things that they can't say to their faces, and who is going to disagree with a mob of 6'3 men in high heels and wigs and make up screaming at you. No one. People love to hear what they can see in themselves and don't want to deal with.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked once over some burnt toast. Dad was not a good cook, her mother was always the best cook, her dad didn't even know how to cook toast. He believed in all of the conspiracy theories around appliances like toasters and microwaves, that they were being radioactively controlled by the government to take over your mind, they are mind control devices, why in the world would we use such things. So toast goes into the oven to bake and it is usually black on one side and burned on the other and because he made such a big deal about it, Mercy's Dad would eat two pieces and pretend its good but Mercy would not. That is one thing Mercy's dad always did, though, was stay up or get up (if he was home from the club early enough) with her to send her off to school, even it if was with a piece of burnt toast and water bottle of orange juice, to go.
Did you ever want to transition to being a woman? Mercy asked.
No, because I am a man, her dad answered.
But you just dress like a woman for money? Mercy asked.
Precisely. I am a man but I dress in both man drag and woman drag, everything is a performance, every outfit is just an outfit.
Do you like men when you are in boy drag and women when you are in man drag? she asked.
No, I like men all the time, no matter what drag I am in. Now, hurry up and eat that toast before it gets cold, you have a bus to catch.
Why did you and my mom have me? Mercy asked.
Because you were sent to us by the stork, how can we say no? he said with a smile only the devil could have created. One day, you were on our front porch. We can just send you back to where you were made, now can we?
Mercy loved that answer, even though it never made any sense. Her whole life all she heard was that she was dropped on the front porch and these kind people would take care of her. She always thought to herself a barrage of questions she would never put to her father about if that's true, then why didn't they just sent her to a group home? Why did they keep her? Why be a father when you don't want to be? If I didn't come out of my mother and wasn't created by you two together, what's the point?
Now Mercy, don't be so sad. Don't be sad, Mercy. You'll always be my baby girl. You are my baby girl. That's why we named you Mercy. You were never a punishment. You were always the forgiveness for my wrong doing.
Mercy
Stand back, Mercy, from the train tracks.
Mercy stands next to the train tracks and places a penny on the rail. There was always a story growing up of that the train would derail and explode if you put a penny on the rail. It wouldn't just flatten it.
Mercy sits on the ground and waits for the train. When it finally comes, the wind makes her eardrums pop and she is so small that the force almost knocks her on her back. She feels like a blown out accordian, she is wiry and strung out and whistles through her nose sometimes. When the train blows past completely, she has forgotten about the penny for only a moment. She has forgotten about the penny until she stands up and walks over to the rail and find the penny completely flattened, as if in one of those tourist attractions where you pay 51 cents to flatten a penny and imprint it with someone touristy, she has one from a Coors Brewery tour her father had in his dresser that she stole the other day. She is going to keep this flat penny in her pocket until it falls out in the washing machine or the dryer or on the way to the bedroom from the washing machine or dryer. Mercy will lose this flat penny and it will sadden her, the way she loses everything she loves.
Mercy stands next to the train tracks and places a penny on the rail. There was always a story growing up of that the train would derail and explode if you put a penny on the rail. It wouldn't just flatten it.
Mercy sits on the ground and waits for the train. When it finally comes, the wind makes her eardrums pop and she is so small that the force almost knocks her on her back. She feels like a blown out accordian, she is wiry and strung out and whistles through her nose sometimes. When the train blows past completely, she has forgotten about the penny for only a moment. She has forgotten about the penny until she stands up and walks over to the rail and find the penny completely flattened, as if in one of those tourist attractions where you pay 51 cents to flatten a penny and imprint it with someone touristy, she has one from a Coors Brewery tour her father had in his dresser that she stole the other day. She is going to keep this flat penny in her pocket until it falls out in the washing machine or the dryer or on the way to the bedroom from the washing machine or dryer. Mercy will lose this flat penny and it will sadden her, the way she loses everything she loves.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Mercy
Patrick #1 comes home from Germany because he cheats on his girlfriend.
Patrick #1 is the love of Mercy's life, although he is gay, although he has never been faithful to a man or woman his entire life.
Patrick #1 went to Germany with his girlfriend because he is always having girlfriends, Patrick #1 won't simply have a boyfriend, he wants to have a girlfriend, he says he likes the close company of women, he likes how women's faces look when he cums in their mouths, its better than boys, he says, but by boys he refers to grown men, Polar Bears, the category is on his various networking sites to instantly find men to hook up like Smusher or Smasher or whatever it is called. There are many, Patrick #1 reminds her, there are many different ways to find who you are looking for.
Patrick #1 loves Polar Bears, older man that are hairy, covered with white hair, I don't like pot bellies, though, I'm not trying to fuck a stove for heaven's sake Patrick tells her.
But Patrick #1, he likes to date women, to live with women as lovers, they are so smooth normally, they just slide all over you, you know what I mean, I love smooth bodies on women, I like talking to women, the smell of them, they keep the house clean, they are cute and like to shop.
Mercy doesn't understand, because she is none of those things, she is not what Patrick #1 says he likes at all, Mercy is not those women.
Patrick #1 dated a girl and followed her to Germany and then, of course, cheated on her through polarbearsinberlin.com but also with a red-haired old prostitute that was smoking a cigarette in a window, staring sadly, her name was Amber and she spoke almost no German but she had a thick face and dark lines that told you how much she smoked. Her voice was low and surprising and scratchy and so was her throat, Patrick #1 says to Mercy, so was her throat.
Patrick #1 cheats on his girlfriend and is kicked out of the house after telling her because this is what always happens, he cheats and then the guilt and then he calls Mercy. Mercy bolts upright in the middle of the night at the sound of her phone, no one calls her in the middle of the night ever, and it is Patrick #1 crying, saying he shit his pants walking back to his apartment because he is so drunk he smells like shit and his girlfriend won't talk to him, his girlfriend won't speak to him, because he is drunk and smells like shit and has fucked two separate people and Jesus, enough with these girlfriends! Mercy says, enough with these Polar Bears, get your shit together! and Patrick #1 laughs, as if satan lives inside of his bowels.
Patrick #1 moves back to the states after his girlfriend kicks him out, kicks him out of Berlin, tells him the city is not big enough for both of them and that he needs to go back to the states. He doesn't disagree, he takes two days to sober up, quit his job, ship his things, make an arrangement (calling Mercy) and flew back without saying good bye to her, while she was at work teaching English as a second language to business men that tried to fuck her, who she resisted, who she may not resist any longer now that he was out of the picture.
Patrick #1 is back in town, of course he is, Mercy thinks, my father is dying and Patrick #1 is back in town. Mercy's father is wearing a huge white curly disco wig from the '70's while napping with his mouth open. It scares Mercy so much that she wiggles his feet until he moves a little, the wig staying in perfect place, his mouth closing so he doesn't look like he's dead.
Patrick #1 is the love of Mercy's life, although he is gay, although he has never been faithful to a man or woman his entire life.
Patrick #1 went to Germany with his girlfriend because he is always having girlfriends, Patrick #1 won't simply have a boyfriend, he wants to have a girlfriend, he says he likes the close company of women, he likes how women's faces look when he cums in their mouths, its better than boys, he says, but by boys he refers to grown men, Polar Bears, the category is on his various networking sites to instantly find men to hook up like Smusher or Smasher or whatever it is called. There are many, Patrick #1 reminds her, there are many different ways to find who you are looking for.
Patrick #1 loves Polar Bears, older man that are hairy, covered with white hair, I don't like pot bellies, though, I'm not trying to fuck a stove for heaven's sake Patrick tells her.
But Patrick #1, he likes to date women, to live with women as lovers, they are so smooth normally, they just slide all over you, you know what I mean, I love smooth bodies on women, I like talking to women, the smell of them, they keep the house clean, they are cute and like to shop.
Mercy doesn't understand, because she is none of those things, she is not what Patrick #1 says he likes at all, Mercy is not those women.
Patrick #1 dated a girl and followed her to Germany and then, of course, cheated on her through polarbearsinberlin.com but also with a red-haired old prostitute that was smoking a cigarette in a window, staring sadly, her name was Amber and she spoke almost no German but she had a thick face and dark lines that told you how much she smoked. Her voice was low and surprising and scratchy and so was her throat, Patrick #1 says to Mercy, so was her throat.
Patrick #1 cheats on his girlfriend and is kicked out of the house after telling her because this is what always happens, he cheats and then the guilt and then he calls Mercy. Mercy bolts upright in the middle of the night at the sound of her phone, no one calls her in the middle of the night ever, and it is Patrick #1 crying, saying he shit his pants walking back to his apartment because he is so drunk he smells like shit and his girlfriend won't talk to him, his girlfriend won't speak to him, because he is drunk and smells like shit and has fucked two separate people and Jesus, enough with these girlfriends! Mercy says, enough with these Polar Bears, get your shit together! and Patrick #1 laughs, as if satan lives inside of his bowels.
Patrick #1 moves back to the states after his girlfriend kicks him out, kicks him out of Berlin, tells him the city is not big enough for both of them and that he needs to go back to the states. He doesn't disagree, he takes two days to sober up, quit his job, ship his things, make an arrangement (calling Mercy) and flew back without saying good bye to her, while she was at work teaching English as a second language to business men that tried to fuck her, who she resisted, who she may not resist any longer now that he was out of the picture.
Patrick #1 is back in town, of course he is, Mercy thinks, my father is dying and Patrick #1 is back in town. Mercy's father is wearing a huge white curly disco wig from the '70's while napping with his mouth open. It scares Mercy so much that she wiggles his feet until he moves a little, the wig staying in perfect place, his mouth closing so he doesn't look like he's dead.
Mercy
Mercy watches her friend's father sit too close to her friend's father's little sister and she tells her friend in bed that night, your dad, your dad, he was too close, he was too close to your baby sister. When her friend ignores her, she never forgets. Years later, she finds out her friend's father was molesting her little sister, and Mercy can't ever forget that feeling, like dying on the inside, what it feels like to compromise your self for another person.
It is fall and football season and Mercy hates the nostalgia. She is sitting in front of the mirror of the vanity her grandfather had left her in his will, a cherry vanity and a louis vuitton trunk that was worth money, that she kept shoes in at the end of her bed. She was trying out different looks from a magazine, the arched eyebrow here, the square eyeshadow here, blocks of color, blocks and blocks of color. She would line up her eyeshadows in order of color, to create a spectrum, she needed everything in view so she could decide. Most of the time she didn't even wear makeup, she just bought makeup and gazed lovingly at it. She wanted to simply watch her things.
It is fall and football season and Mercy hates the nostalgia. She is sitting in front of the mirror of the vanity her grandfather had left her in his will, a cherry vanity and a louis vuitton trunk that was worth money, that she kept shoes in at the end of her bed. She was trying out different looks from a magazine, the arched eyebrow here, the square eyeshadow here, blocks of color, blocks and blocks of color. She would line up her eyeshadows in order of color, to create a spectrum, she needed everything in view so she could decide. Most of the time she didn't even wear makeup, she just bought makeup and gazed lovingly at it. She wanted to simply watch her things.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Mercy
Mercy is invited to go to Kodiak, Alaska, an exboyfriend just moved there for a job in the woods in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The pictures are breathtaking, she writes in an email, even though he wrote her on paper with a pencil so when the letter finally arrived some of the words were faded, she had to read it under a microscope. There is no wifi in the mountains of Kodiak, where he is, but she insisted on writing an email anyway, dating it as if it mattered, addressing it to him in the corner of the screen to his cabin. He said he only got his mail every two weeks, anyway. Dear Patrick, Mercy writes, Dear Patrick.
Dreams of killing. Stab. Repeat. Stab. Repeat.
When she was in high school, the feeling of wanting to kill one of her mother's many husbands, replacements for her father. This one in particular. The night her mother and this man yelled at each other in his big house for hours until he came downstairs where Mercy was, in a rage, and grabbed something from his tool room. Remember, Mercy. Mercy remembers the feeling in her body of acquiescing to a trade-off: her life for her mother's. She remembers resigning in those moments. What did he grab and where is he going. He is mad. Madder than she had ever seen him get. So, so angry.
A man like that, of privilege, white, he can get away with things, she thought. Mercy thought, he can get away with so much. There are three mine shafts on his property alone. Three.
Mercy remembers grabbing a pair of scissors and a claw hammer. She is shaking, she is involuntarily crying, not weeping, but choking back tears, not calmly at all. In this moment, I resign my life. Tonight is the night, I will go to prison forever. Tonight is the night I go to prison forever. Tonight is the night. Good-bye future, good-bye college, good-bye boys that taste like Southern Comfort in black hooded sweatshirts that blend with the sky around the bonfire parties. Kiss me, kiss me, c'mon they say. They always prod. They always have to prod. Mercy freezes. Kiss me, kiss me. Mercy does not know how to say no yet. She doesn't say it often. She will learn someday but she does not know yet so Kiss me kiss me becomes hands up her shirt. Becomes.
Tremble. Choke tears. Skip one step. Skip two steps. Many leaps. On top of the stairs. Looking down. What if he fell. Accident. The dogs are barking. Skip two more steps. Listen. Top. of. Stairs. Listen. What. The clink of the claw hammer, it hits the wall. Accident. Two more steps. Back against banister. Shadow. Listen. Yell. Slam door. Tears blending into hair. Moist hair. Tremble. Choke.
Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Her mother is fine. Mercy, look, your mother is in the guest bathroom washing her face with a towel, cursing under her breath about that man she married. Mercy doubles over as if in pain, the claw hammer hits her knee lightly before landing silently on the stair below her. This awful carpet with piss and shit stains everywhere, it smells like a pet store in here she told her mother once. Her mother is fine. Her mother's husband is outside, drinking vodka from the neck of the bottle, in his undershorts, in his Gander Mountain beach chair, waiting for everything to pass over.
Mercy feels this feeling again tonight, Dear Patrick, do you remember one of my mother's exhusbands has three mine shafts on his property, do you think there are bodies in those mine shafts? Patrick once told her that there are things every man on the planet carries inside of him that he does not let anyone in on, he said that his are particular in that he can't even speak about them, there are statutes of limitations on certain things but not others, what does that even mean, Mercy said but Patrick did not answer and was quiet a long while.
Dreams of killing. Stab. Repeat. Stab. Repeat.
When she was in high school, the feeling of wanting to kill one of her mother's many husbands, replacements for her father. This one in particular. The night her mother and this man yelled at each other in his big house for hours until he came downstairs where Mercy was, in a rage, and grabbed something from his tool room. Remember, Mercy. Mercy remembers the feeling in her body of acquiescing to a trade-off: her life for her mother's. She remembers resigning in those moments. What did he grab and where is he going. He is mad. Madder than she had ever seen him get. So, so angry.
A man like that, of privilege, white, he can get away with things, she thought. Mercy thought, he can get away with so much. There are three mine shafts on his property alone. Three.
Mercy remembers grabbing a pair of scissors and a claw hammer. She is shaking, she is involuntarily crying, not weeping, but choking back tears, not calmly at all. In this moment, I resign my life. Tonight is the night, I will go to prison forever. Tonight is the night I go to prison forever. Tonight is the night. Good-bye future, good-bye college, good-bye boys that taste like Southern Comfort in black hooded sweatshirts that blend with the sky around the bonfire parties. Kiss me, kiss me, c'mon they say. They always prod. They always have to prod. Mercy freezes. Kiss me, kiss me. Mercy does not know how to say no yet. She doesn't say it often. She will learn someday but she does not know yet so Kiss me kiss me becomes hands up her shirt. Becomes.
Tremble. Choke tears. Skip one step. Skip two steps. Many leaps. On top of the stairs. Looking down. What if he fell. Accident. The dogs are barking. Skip two more steps. Listen. Top. of. Stairs. Listen. What. The clink of the claw hammer, it hits the wall. Accident. Two more steps. Back against banister. Shadow. Listen. Yell. Slam door. Tears blending into hair. Moist hair. Tremble. Choke.
Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Yell. Slam. Bark. Her mother is fine. Mercy, look, your mother is in the guest bathroom washing her face with a towel, cursing under her breath about that man she married. Mercy doubles over as if in pain, the claw hammer hits her knee lightly before landing silently on the stair below her. This awful carpet with piss and shit stains everywhere, it smells like a pet store in here she told her mother once. Her mother is fine. Her mother's husband is outside, drinking vodka from the neck of the bottle, in his undershorts, in his Gander Mountain beach chair, waiting for everything to pass over.
Mercy feels this feeling again tonight, Dear Patrick, do you remember one of my mother's exhusbands has three mine shafts on his property, do you think there are bodies in those mine shafts? Patrick once told her that there are things every man on the planet carries inside of him that he does not let anyone in on, he said that his are particular in that he can't even speak about them, there are statutes of limitations on certain things but not others, what does that even mean, Mercy said but Patrick did not answer and was quiet a long while.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Mercy
Let me tell you something about your father, a Queen named Amber Wavves says, Let me tell you something about your father, in his early years as a Queen, the rumor around was that his main man was a dude that was an AIDS terrorists, if you know what I mean. Mean dude had AIDS and shook it around like it was nothing, fucking Ev-ah-ree-thang, you know what I mean. And he was your old man's old man. You know. He never told your dad, though, sweets, and I'm sorry you gotta find out this way, but your old man is sick and you need to come back here and help him. He's gotta community here but it aint the same as his baby girl he talks about so much.
Miss Amber says, we got you a airplane ticket home, child. Come home and take care of your daddy.
Mercy looked at the only surviving photographs of her as a toddler with her mop of ragamuffin curls and her father, looking like he stepped right out of Ralph Lauren advertisement, windblown hair, straight white teeth, tan skin, even in a black and white picture. Her mother, too, not in the same realm of beauty as her father, in a different style, an air about her more than her actual physical body. What she always interpreted as passion between them, laughing carelessly at their toddler baby girl.
Mercy. Baby Mercy. Toddler Mercy. Teenage Mercy. Adult Mercy.
Her mother got to see up to space between Toddler Mercy and Teenage Mercy. Awkward child Mercy. Her mother always called her Mercy May even though it wasn't her middle name.
Little did her mother know and little did Mercy know that the beautiful man in the photograph with is tan head cocked and his blonde curls accenting his mouth, wide and smiling, is dying of HIV at the moment this picture was taken. No one knew, through decades, he kept quiet even when diagnosed, he kept performing, even after her mother died mysteriously of a brain aneurysm, she had a headache and needed to lie down and was dead. In this picture of Toddler Mercy, this beautiful man was having unprotected sex and sharing needles on the weekends with his other Queens. This beautiful man has not yet told his wife that the second job he has taken on in the City is actually dressing in women's clothing and dancing for money. He has not told her that he was in a competition and won first place and that is where their money for the crib came from. The best part about her is that she never asked any questions her father would say to her eventually, she never asked me anything at all until I was caught.
Miss Amber says, we got you a airplane ticket home, child. Come home and take care of your daddy.
Mercy looked at the only surviving photographs of her as a toddler with her mop of ragamuffin curls and her father, looking like he stepped right out of Ralph Lauren advertisement, windblown hair, straight white teeth, tan skin, even in a black and white picture. Her mother, too, not in the same realm of beauty as her father, in a different style, an air about her more than her actual physical body. What she always interpreted as passion between them, laughing carelessly at their toddler baby girl.
Mercy. Baby Mercy. Toddler Mercy. Teenage Mercy. Adult Mercy.
Her mother got to see up to space between Toddler Mercy and Teenage Mercy. Awkward child Mercy. Her mother always called her Mercy May even though it wasn't her middle name.
Little did her mother know and little did Mercy know that the beautiful man in the photograph with is tan head cocked and his blonde curls accenting his mouth, wide and smiling, is dying of HIV at the moment this picture was taken. No one knew, through decades, he kept quiet even when diagnosed, he kept performing, even after her mother died mysteriously of a brain aneurysm, she had a headache and needed to lie down and was dead. In this picture of Toddler Mercy, this beautiful man was having unprotected sex and sharing needles on the weekends with his other Queens. This beautiful man has not yet told his wife that the second job he has taken on in the City is actually dressing in women's clothing and dancing for money. He has not told her that he was in a competition and won first place and that is where their money for the crib came from. The best part about her is that she never asked any questions her father would say to her eventually, she never asked me anything at all until I was caught.
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