Screams of a
Faceless Rat
By
Reinhard A. Palovcik
Edited by Tom
Miller
© 1997 Reinhard A. Palovcik and
FREDInk Records
Whore
I
imagine her
in a dismal room
rented by the hour
lying nude on the
bed
her worn shoes
tumbled against the wall
lipstick
crescents
stuck to a glass
of cheap wine
tattered dress
draped
over a chair
copper bracelets
lying on the dresser
in a
heap
he is at her loins
licking and sucking
taking his
pleasure
she is titillated
at first
but then
the
heavy
weight
of her past
crushes her desire
as she
lies
limp in his arms
thinking
about that
ten
and the few hours
of bliss
waiting for her
at the
point
of a needle
Gone
he
awakens
from the accident
arms gone
legs gone
face only half
there
lying amidst tubes
feeding him blood
pumping
drugs
sky and sun
in his mind
sleet in his
heart
everything now hurts
as he sees
field of
poppies
everywhere
beyond his reach
his pain
floating up
to the
ceiling
overhead lights red
behind the lids
of his
eyes
short words
unwind
in his mind
but tangle
on his
tongue
trapped
in the cage
of his fate
he sinks deep
back
the black
that was there
before he
was
born
Brainless
Here I
am
opening
a beer
lighting
my cigarette
There lies
a
brainless
corpse
in deep
coma
fed through
an IV
line
breathing
oxygen
Alive
I go
from day
to
day
year
to year
picking
at scabs
of tragedy
in my
life
trying
to forget
the scars
of meager
employment
love
lost
aging
and approaching
death
It takes
its toll
on my
body
in herniated
disks
tarred lungs
a fatty liver
sun-aged
skin
My sores fester
infected
picked
infected
again
through
days
like nights
ripping
all hope
from my
soul
While
this vegetable
lies
peacefully
in the
ICU
with a perfect
diet
antibiotics
a constant
caress
from
nurses
treating
its wounds
exercising
its
limbs
monitoring
vital signs
by the hour
it is visited
by
doctors
twice daily
they keep
the heart
beating
the
lungs
breathing
as I wander
the streets
stare
at the curb
at
the sky
plodding along
I think
I sense
I feel
I am
doomed
There
a mindless
beast
rests on
pillows
clean
white
at $3000
a day
it will
never
speak
never walk
never think
but it has found
the love
the
tenderness
and the extinction
that I
have so
long
sought
Shit, Not Again
I
just got
a bonus
at work
$500, tax free
and expect
there
will
be more
to come
I've also been
guaranteed
some job
security
and the opportunity
to travel
to Boston
to
Ireland
I can now find
anything I want
on the internet
my CD
collection
has grown
and I receive
several packages
of books a
week
Both my cars
seem to be working
my bills are up to
date
I've managed
to clean things up
and make
more
friends
I no longer have
a love interest
but beating off
to
magazines
seems enough
for now
and better
in some ways
they
don't
talk back
or leave
But lately
it's been
hard to
get
depressed
enough
to write
anything more
than the
crap
you are
now reading
They All
Died
One morning
when I was seven
I walked through
my
parent's bedroom
and saw
this rubber thing
sitting on the
dresser
It looked like a balloon
but it was all wet
and
slimy
I picked it up
and wondered
what the hell
it was doing
in here
It's opening
was larger
than a balloon's
maybe to
fit
an adult's mouth
I thought
Then my mother
came in and
screamed
"Put that filthy
thing down."
and
"What are you
doing
in here?"
"I didn't know
what I was doing
in there, just
bored
I guess"
Afterward,
I couldn't figure out
what I had
done wrong
and never got
a good explanation
from either
parent
As I got older
I learned
that what I had found
was
called a "Rubber"
and that it was used
to keep couples
from having
children
All the sperm
would get trapped
in the rubber
and not
be able
to get to the egg
so I began to wonder
how I had made it
here
One lucky bastard
had beaten the odds
before he ever
knew
what he was doing
In The
Madhouse
The sun is bright
the day is long
and your
feet
are fantastic
simply fantastic
These shiny red stones
are
the bones
of long dead
dinosaurs
Who would ever
have
guessed
we'd be showered
with candy asses
in this tint
of
twilight
to our eyes
"I want
real lace curtains
for my doll
house
and a real lace
dress for my doll
damn it
I want
them!"
Where will
this child die
when she is seventy?
Inspired
by the eggs?
Light is my enemy
but I cannot
write by night
nor
beneath
horns
of light
emerging
from this
incandescent
lamp
We keep
the moon dim
but do not
turn it off
The
stale smell
of a lone fart
lies long-trapped
between the pages
of
this well-read book
"I could keep
writing
if only
you
would
shut up
once
in a while"
A whale
can never
be a
red whale
as there are no
red whales
with shoes
to match
We
can pick
any point
on the line
and follow it
counting
up
The Vatican
has no rats
they have all
been nailed
to the
pews
with tacks
"There are
fewer monsters
hiding in my
closet
than in the cupboard
but they are
more hungry"
Air will
no longer
pass through
this ancient flute
filled with the spit
of
five centuries
The world
hangs crooked
about
this
magnificent
work of art
My doors
have no inside
or
outside
and open
into nothing
but close hard
on my
nose
"She's all fucked up
look at her eyes
listen to her
she's
been
snortin' again"
The least wrothy
of men
never spy their
eyes
in the mirror
In high school
we sewed
the
soccer
team's socks
into a quilt
to keep
the ball
warm
"Tell me Eddie
where'd you
get that tie?
where'd you get
it?
where'd you get it, Eddie?
I wanna know"
My mother
always
said
"now mind your mind
don't think those thoughts
don't pull your
pole
or you'll lose your soul"
Who can say
where trees
will
grow
where the seed falls
who can say?
"She always fumbled
for
my cock
the clumsy bitch
so I shot
her"
Chicken
When I was five
I
played in a courtyard
framed in unpainted
weathered wood boards
I had
a broad-brimmed
sombrero and a six shooter
tin drum, teddy bear
a
cane, bamboo chair
motorless scooter
a silver race car with
pedals
and an ancient tricycle
that squealed when it rolled
My
friends were the chickens
goofy-looking things with feathers
they would
walk around in the dirt
bobbing their heads fore and back
once in a
while
one would take to the air
fly a few feet
then come crashing
down
while their cousins
the swallows and hawks
would flit from house
to house
or soar up to the clouds
I used to chase these chickens
but
never caught one
Once every two weeks
I sould stand in a
corner
and watch the old man
as he got out his ax
he was tall and
limber and fast
more than a match for the chickens
he'd lunge out and
grab one
by the legs and maybe break a wing
and the chicken would
shriek
as it struggled for its life
its little red tongue
poking out
between its beak
he would press its neck
onto an old stump and chop off
its head
Then he would let the body go
it ran and hopped
at full
sprint
one wing dragging the dirt
spurting a trail of red
sometimes
strike the stump or a wall
leave a blotch of blood there
then it would
drop
struggle its last, twitching
and then the twitching would
stop
father would tease me
with the head, pretending it could
talk
"ouch, ouch, that hurt"
or "I'm just a dumb chicken"
At
dinner that evening
as the food was brought to the table
there was the
chicken
in pieces, with pepper and sauce
I couldn't even think of eating
it
my parents were furious
"eat or you're going to waste away
into
nothing like the Suppen Casper"
father would push my face into
it
and I would cry, for me, not the chicken
they wouldn't let me leave
the table
until I had finished the meal
the chicken was always the last
to go
and sometimes, sitting there for hours
I would wonder
when was
it going to be my turn?
Only a
Poem
It's funny how
some of the best writing flows
from
some of the cheapest
the least reliable, the ugliest pens
that gave me a
clue
about the futility
of accumulating property
what was it
for?
I cuoldn't eat it while starving
I couldn't fuck it when
alone
what was it for?
me to look at?
was it that lovely? no
I've
seen organic things
that would die in my hands
if I plucked or caught
them
they were far more beautiful
So I vowed
I would rid
myself
of all I considered valuable
I would give away
all my
possessions
what good were they?
Then a friend
came up to
me
and says, "Hey man,
can I have some of your stuff?"
and I told him
"Hey
it was only a poem, man
only a
poem"
Here It Comes
Here comes the
madness again
out of the words
telling me
I should stop writing
no
one wants to hear this
dribbling through my fingers
Like an ant
taking a shit
on an elephant
I'm way up there, alone
but there's this
trunk
waving around
like it wants to kill me
The elephant walks
to the lake
sucks in some water
and tries to wash me off
along with
the shit
but I hold on
and the shit stays too
I ride this
beast
through jungles
and deserts
and the shit piles up
until I
can use it
to build a house
I'm comfortable at last
but still,
there's this trunk
waving around
like it wants to kill me
it crushes
my house made of shit
and I'm trapped inside
No one sees
anything
the elephant is clean
except for a faint brown spot
in the
middle of its back
and my legs, all six of them
sticking out, like an
insect
He Sits
Each day, in the
morning
he would wake and have
his orange juice and coffee
and sit on
his porch for hours
until the sun set, he remembered
how horses drew
carriages down
the street and the bread man would
deliver a loaf to each
door
and the milkman a bottle
and his neighbors would be sitting
on
their porches looking
at each other and waving
and the children would be
playing
ball in the street and the patrolman
would walk by swinging his
club
he didn't have a gun in those days
and the air would be filled with
hope
and the scent of flowers and the wallets
would be filled with
money
But it isn't like that anymore, cars
with mag wheels and
chrome
speed down the street
with their tires squealing
and all the
cops have guns
and all the kids are on drugs
except for those in
wheelchairs
or sitting in front of their computers
and no one delivers
anything anymore
except pizzas and no one
sits on their porch, they're
all in front
of their TVs and their wallets
are full of plastic these
days
and the sun sets early
through a polluted haze and all the
food
comes in cans or frozen
and there aren't anymore forests
or
fields, only tenements and misery
and drink and modern medicine
to keep
them alive through it
all