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‘The monkey’ by Captain B
THE MONKEY
i’ll just open it
to let it know
i still care
amazing stories
stumping conclusions
all part of the chaos
as a means
to an end
let me pack up tight
the last of it
to smoke
and drift
into summer
it’s going to be surf
again
it’s going to be brothers
not seen for too long
it’s going to be something
at least
in the minimum
conclusive
with my new friend
she’s a prize
but doesn’t quite
believe in me yet
she comes and goes
insert joke here…
shoelei
or shoelet?
stinky feet
must be all the concrete
under foot
this road doesn’t only fork
because it’s a tree
with many branches
hmm?
guess it’s good
i’m a monkey
and i swing
that’s for sure
though we did at least
grab that vine
a number of times
we know it from the rest
all of us
with our individual pieces
can reconstruct this tower
it’s time
to put it all back together again
then i rewound
to the point i lost it
erased that which didn’t
rewrote that which should’ve
written itself into reality
then after the lies kept coming
i identified as such
it was such a pattern
that only sought to stab my core
i realized it
and said no more
fucking hell
wash your feet
for the ever loving something of an untrue
shit
goddamn
get off your ass
and jam!
of course i do
i just said to don’t know who
in relation to what?
you ask
well, then
foreign or not
voice inside my head
as you’re part of it
you already know
who
and the candidate qualifies
yes
hurts
ain’t easy
breaking everything down everyday
my tattoos are only visible to some
just like it should be
can’t help it
can’t help anything
just the way i’m guessing
it must be
it all went right to my eye
the good one
not the right, the left
teared it
yep
watered it
but of course
it cleared some things up
so then when…
so then when it all comes crashing again
it reminds of lessons learned
lessons revisited
and the same message
reconfiguring
to be heard
with that deafening sound
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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‘Strabismus’ by Captain B
STRABISMUS
Strabismus
Ouch the day
Can’t see straight
Friday’d have it
No other way
The birds alit
The dogs hid
We all cursed our mothers
And wished
We’d never been born
When she found the candle
Still lit
Melted all over her favorite dish
(when was the last time
It didn’t merely serve
As decoration?)
Good morning
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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‘Brazen’ by Captain B
Brazen
Brazen
Itching
Good thing he only has his fists
His guns and knives are at home
(Well, anyone checked his damn boot?)
There at the tavern
He isn’t more than a three-minute walk
That itching, that gnawing
It hasn’t been right for a long, long time
He hasn’t won a fight anyone’s witnessed
In quite some time either
Just weeks ago
His ex-wife told me over the airwaves
Of how my once solid, brickhouse of a friend since youth
Made that way from hundreds of thousands of bricks and blocks
(Had he reached the million mark?)
Huffed and tossed around for most of his working life
Had quit eating. He’d quit working too.
We used to go out for prime rib or thick porter houses
With ale before a night of hitting the hard stuff
But he neither works nor eats any longer
He couldn’t even pick me up
She said
And that was six months ago, last we were together
The last time he brewed coffee or had breakfast in the morning she couldn’t say
Just grasp for the remains of the previous night’s bottle
If empty or out of stock, the first order of the day
Recently
He got violent with the police
When it took them ten minutes of prodding and poking
And shouting in his ear
To roust him from the coma
He’d fallen into at the cinema
He’d still had traces of the shiner
He’d received whispering all sorts of threats
And promises into the random bar patron’s ear
One or the other had saddled up next to
One or the other
You get violent with the police
You know who gets the final say
And how much that hurts
Something to think about
If the cold and discomfort of the cell and slab you’re
Less than sleeping on
Don’t turn your thoughts to those also pressing concerns
He hasn’t been right for a long time
Didn’t think he was going to make it through the winter
He himself, ex-wife, and his poor mother who has already lost two sons
Two of four
All speculated last fall
Four days ago was the spring equinox
But nobody go crossing yourself just yet
Praising miracles
Okay, warding off evil
Is another thing
It’s only noon
He’s been at the Schulz Haus since before ten
Where he waited in the still cold weather for Junior to open up
Junior’s a bit old school, a bit wild midwest
He doesn’t cut people off
But just wait for my friend to come across a face
He doesn’t recognize
Or one he despises
And someone’s getting hurt
Flip that coin
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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‘When’s Recess?’ by Captain B
When’s recess?
Girls probably don’t know
Unless told
By a brother or a friend
Hey, now, calm down
No doubt i don’t know
And could be told many things
Education, yes please, and supersize it
Anyway
Of the boys in grade school
Maybe in kindergarten it wasn’t too frowned upon
Perhaps in first grade it was still only testing the limits
But by second grade, if you walked into the bathroom
And there at the urinal was the kid who sat in the front row
Closest to the teacher (always aid in circling it around the big ear
Back through the hole. Double knot. Forget it.)
With pants and Scooby Doo underoos down around the ankles
Bare ass grinnin
You’d usually know who
To throw at first
In dodgeball
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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‘I’ll pencil you in’ by Captain B
I’LL PENCIL YOU IN
I’ll pencil you in
I said to a friend
I, just back from a mission
He didn’t get it
The expression
I wasn’t surprised
And had only heard it recently
From the erudite client
Benefactor, collector of oddities
Of this most recent mission
I explained as best i could
To this friend
That it refers to a long extinct
And rudimentary technology
And but one usage of the implement
That existed on the swamp planet
Inhabited by those scary hybrid ancestors
That mated with the scaly overlords
Who ruled so long from the shadows
Now the whole wasteland is shadow
And all the hideous degrees
Of those blasphemous things
Slither about freely
And feed on each other
And satiate thirst
With the thick toxicity
Emanating from the bogs
I was there to retrieve a book
Full of a language and expressions
Such as these
Long forgotten by us
(And not a book like you’d imagine it
This one is of matter and can be held
In both hands- i let it go
I’d explain more in person)
So, yes, long a fading memory
Only heard in tales
Kin and cousin, brothers and sisters
Who, as of course you know, long ago
Had to flee and scatter
He said, yeah whatever
That he’d keep his transport job
But that after i showered and scrubbed
Any disease or pestilence from my being
Picked up from nightmare land
He’d meet me on Karas
First round
He was buying
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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the wolf by Captain B
the wolf
i cross this thing
pavement
i don’t like it
i am the wolf
with caution but speed
i dart across
to enter woods again
i’ve lost the pack
but confident and able
i move on
i sense movement
and smell meat
i move on
i’m downwind
i’m stealth
it’s mine
but i wait
stroll
have a walk
in the moonlight
there is still
beyond
young pawn for my preying
i’m a demon in making
predator fells fawn
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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Too cool for school by Captain B
TOO COOL FOR SCHOOL
I’d spied them long before they saw me
I cleared the curb with a bunnyhop
With both more flair and altitude than needed
Almost a tabletop
I then whipped a quick three-sixty
Now with left foot on front peg
Kicked the back wheel up
Seat secured under my elbow
And glid, glode, glided
What was referred to
By those in the know
At that time
A hang-five
I rode it some meters
Before letting the tail down
To swing around
I stepped through to the back peg
Now the front wheel in the air
And scuffed a backyard
Starting wide before tightening
Riding the golden spiral in
To a tight and quick spin
I did not cleanly get back to my pedals
However
But touched down
If i’d been down in St. Paul
At the Midwest Freestyle Series
Judges would’ve noticed
I knew the unofficial judges noticed
Not the mistake so much
As the show
I pedaled in the other direction
Before turning back around
I pumped hard and picked up speed
I jumped up, right foot on seat, left on handlebars
And stood up in my (famous) surfer
As i rolled by
Pretending to notice them sitting on the wall
For the first time, said
Oh, hey
Amy R. and Tammy L. laughed
Tammy passed Amy the smoke they were sharing
They knew i knew that they’d been watching all along
And they’d been watching because i’d been performing
Only too obvious that i’d seen them first
I dropped to the pedals and rode over
Hey
Hey
Got another of those?
Got one more. Want it? It’s a Newport
Menthol, hell no, but i didn’t say it
Just waved a denying hand and shook my head
Staying at Kell’s tonight. He’s got some Winstons
It was Friday
We’d been about an hour out of school
Tammy was going to sleep at Amy’s
At that age i could only manage a few minutes of conversation
Before losing my cool
Of course we’re not talking emotional temper
And we’ll take the assertion lightly (thus undoing it)
I announced i was off to Kell’s
They asked where my backpack and change of clothes were
I scoffed
They laughed and made fun of me and boys in general for such things
As i was riding away, Amy called out to ask if i’d be at TVN
Teen Variety Night at the middle school
The following night
Probably i confirmed
And with a nod
I was off
Riding a wheelie into the sunset
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro
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Witches brew and Warlocks too by Captain B
witches brew and warlocks too
The wicked witch wilted on down the road
The good witch stood atop a giant toad
Nobody knew from which abode
Came the casks of the magic ale
The motherload
The wizards and enchantresses
Know how to get down
Tales of the soirees travel
From town to town
If one should happen to lose their right mind
There is always a security spell
To guard against the unsavory waving of wands
Fuck, Valdemort, what the hell?
Sleep it off old Gandalf, Merlin or Atu
Make room for breakfast of a hearty stew
Next time you’ll sip deep
No need to slam
You missed the whole set
When the minstrels began to jam
***
WHO IS CAPTAIN B?
Captain B. Seafarer. Lover of shore leave. Collector of heads. Disseminator of tales. Twitter: @NPeligeiro