Artifact Fiction
Holiday 8
C.1 Hey Johnny
Johnny Rocks has been homeless off and on since his last big fuse burned out.
Johnny Johnny Johnny, it wasn't always like this. Just so, West step sideways, side long, sing song sidereal.
56 years is your number old friend, year of memories, past histories, the list grows longer as we spiral into an omnipresent ever present Now.
ROCKnROLL RULES THE WORLD, far as Johnny Boy Rocks is concerned.
Now he has a real home. Now Johnny lives in room 29B at the Euphoria Falls Section 8 Holiday Inn.
In his own mind S8 is a Kings palace, and in comparison to the rough, dirty rage of act your age sage page at the weather's mercy cage streets, so it is.
Long train running down hard all those short years of adolescence just a mystic, beautiful blur emerging into this Now which is where another story begins with Johnny and worlds revolving around, without and within the circa 1960's S8 Euphoria Falls Holiday Inn.
C.2 Coin For Signs
About 11 o'clock, its a chill grey New England Fall morning outside the inn. Leary Zapata another chequered denizen of Holiday S8 slouches through the unhinged door into Johnnys room.
Sees Johnny sprawled out in a sort of semiconscious stupor on a battered Goodwill , (Hunting puns aside) ,couch covered in a soiled rainbow patterned tie dyed sheet.
Deceased Southern Rock Band Lynard Skynard is moaning from a Wal-Mart beat box set on the cigarette/doobie burned litter strewn S8 carpet by Johnnys chosen place of slumber, "If I leave here tomorrow will you still remember me?"
Leary who is 6' tall and weighs 110 lbs shoots out a pair of pale pipe cleaner diameter arms and starts to poke through the carpet litter in hopes of scavenging enough roach detritus with which to roll a Breakfast Doob.
Leary Z. whom also resides in Euphoria Falls S8 by way of NYC.
"Johnny, hey Johnny, ready to burn one my brudda, " Leary refers to the recumbent, inert lump that is Johnny Rocks.
"Mrrrffflllsocketpickle," mutters Johnny who is apparently deep in the grip of a private REM reverie.
(Dream set smoke screens shifting frames, exchanging drifts, forgotten names.)
Having managed a respectably disreputable semi dirigible from a fist full of roaches Leary proceeds to light up number one of the day.
"You gonna wake up or what Rocka? We gotta get a sign together, need to think of sumthin good. We outta leaf Rocka."
By sign Leary is not referring to the Zodiac or nuclear disarmament symbols.
He means the something like. "Wounded Vet, Need Food, Please Help."
The signs are derigueur for the resourceful denizens of S8 who post up daily at the Euphoria Falls Town Mall entrance to scam the Working World out of recreational drug money.
A sound of dusty curtains being opened to allow the weak, wintry sunlight to creak into a vintage Holiday Inn room. The seal shape of a hominid homie that is Johnny Rocks awakens to the smell of smoke or burning roaches.
"Hilary is the Queen Mother, I need a hit growls Johnny. "
Leary passes him the roach spliff saying,"here Rocka, Trump on this shit."
Johnny Trumps.
C.3 iPhone Android Fool
"Man, thanks Learz I was having this dream Mr. T was saying he pitied me if I didn't have an android. The only government phone I qualify for are those funked out gen 3 iPhones."
"Funk that iPhone shit Rocka, you gotta respect the T and get an android. "
"Yea Learz so true, I need a good idea for a sign to get up some android dough.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2017-10-01 at 14:20
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