poem puke + a short story

Silly Biker, Pets are for Kids
By James Watson

Me and Lucas were wandering around in the humid summer weather. We were doing our number one favorite outside activity, which happened to be stopping at the end of every driveway in the neighborhood, and checking in their storm gutters for tadpoles. Tadpoles used to entertain us for days. We would catch them in plastic cups and try raising them until they were full-grown adult frogs. Little did we know that it took as long as 2 months for the tiny amphibian to even sprout legs, and that was far too long for any 9 year old to wait. So what usually happened is they would stay in the same cups we caught them in, and would be left in the dark garage with nowhere to swim. By the next day we would be out on the streets deep in the storm gutters with our eyes wide open hoping to find a tiny tadpole.
Today was especially hot. Lucas and I discussed how we needed to get out of the sun and into town, we were thinking about going to the bakery inside of Publix and getting a free cookie. That was obviously a great idea; all my body needed was a good sugar rush and a trip to the water fountain. We walked the long walk through the neighborhood and ended up behind ‘ROOSTERS!’ Bar and Grill. A pretty good place that had a kid’s night in which a clown named ‘Applejack’ would do magic tricks and make balloons in the shape of safari animals like giraffes, lions, and monkeys. I liked that place a lot; it was located next to the Publix, a Little Ceaser, and a pet shop. Whenever I was in town I had to stop in the pet shop, seeing as that was where my mom and I got Piezo and Moochie, my two cats. I always stopped in there to see if they had brothers and sisters.
Luke and me got drinks from the water fountain and free cookies then; of course, we went to the pet shop. This pet shop was family owned and pretty small. The only people I ever saw in there were an older girl maybe 13 years old and a grandma. This particular time the girl was in the front, behind the counter, reading a book and the grandma was nowhere to be found. I always made my way around to the cats first, then the birds, and the spiders, scorpions, and snakes, last. I turned the corner and saw the snake tanks brightly lit up with heat lamps laying on top of them. There was a biker dude standing in front them wearing a big black leather jacket and tight black jeans. His hair was pretty long, about down to his shoulders, and was ultra thin and greasy. He was staring at this one snake like he had never seen one before.
I ran over to the tanks and started checking out the tarantula, I always looked at him first, he was definitely the biggest spider I could get ultra close to, and that alone made him my favorite. I really liked spooky creatures. Lucas came up behind me shortly after and marveled at the spider as well. I caught the biker dude in the corner of my eye putting his hand in the snake tank he was staring at.
Since I had never seen anyone touch the animals besides the girl or the grandma I blurted out, “You work here?” to the greasy man.
“NO.”, he said and picked up the snake.
The snake was coiled in a ball and looked like it was asleep; he lifted it out of the tank and placed it in his side pocket. He then turned around and strolled down the dog leash aisle. I didn’t think much of it, I figured he was buying the snake, he was a biker. I looked at the scorpion next then heard the door to the store slam. The door always made a loud slam at that store, I looked up through and saw the biker walking to the parking lot, but it didn’t look like he had bought the snake. I thought that was weird because whenever I wanted to touch the animals I wasn’t aloud and that dude can just put the animals in his pockets and walk around for a while. I asked Luke if he thought the guy took the snake or not, he didn’t know. I told him I was gonna ask the girl who he was and tell her about the snake anyway.
When I told the girl she made me promise I wasn’t lying because the biker guy was still in the parking lot just hanging around his motorcycle. He had lit a cigarette and was circling his bike smoking it. I told her to check out the tank, it was empty and there was supposed to be a Baby Ball Python that was in it. I made note of the snakes name on the way to the register. She then phoned the police, and thanked us. Lucas and I then left the pet shop and headed back through the town, which was getting a bit cooler now that the sun was going down.
The next day in the newspaper there was an article “Two Brave Students Stop Snake Bandit”. My father brought it to my attention seeing as right when I got home I told him all about it. It was a small little article and it didn’t give out names, which was good because I was afraid he might one day find me and murder me while I am playing with the tadpoles on the side of the road. These ideas came to mind simply because my mother loved watching unsolved mysteries of course.






Pink Swan

She knows how to roll a blunt,
Street smart.
Her shits gonna get thrown in the hallway.
Leon,
Doesn’t take shit.
Oh well.





Sensitive Beach Sand Skin

You sensitive girl
You freeze quicker than you burn
You want to make love,
To touch everything,
The organs
The heart
Lungs
smooth skin.

Sheets greet
Your bare spine
And leave finger prints there…

It really does a number
On you.

Your hands
turn into thin seaweed.
Your toes
Become sand.
And your body washes away
Like stains
And
Shells.






THE JOKER

Where is the orange lighter?
Where is Jack Nicohlson?

No more THC for me.
My hearts twitching.
My skins itching.
Creepy crawling.
Rotating weightlessly…

Blah blah blah