la de da

I have just been marking time until my parole hearing (Sept. 12), kind of going through the same ups and downs as always, when I got a real boost from an unlikely source. My nemesis, arch-enemy, jimmy, sends me an email that I think must be a real turning point for the guy. I want to share it, because I will admit, I did not think there was any hope for an incorrigible scoundrel of his ilk, and yet - I think I was wrong. He is offering an olive branch. Read for yourself...

"Dear squirrel, I know you may be getting out on Sept. 12th. Just thought you should know that it will officially be squirrel season from Sept. 1 until...oh well, don't worry about how long after that, because come September 12, we'll celebrate together. I can hardly wait to get my sights on you. hugs and kisses, jimmy"

Well, blow me over with a whisper! Squirrel Season! Sounds like a holiday time for celebration, finally some real recognition. I haven't heard much about an official proclamation here in prison, but if we squirrels are finally being properly admired - I say, about time! Every season should be squirrel season, but hey, we'll start small. Anyway, I just thought I would speak up to say it looks like jimmy is not such a bad guy after all, and I am squirrel enough to say so. Hey, I wonder if I can be the ambassador of squirrel season? Is it a national holiday or just local? Gosh, this is all so exciting...freedom here I come!

absurd

Why is there anything? I know I am not the first squirrel to ponder the imponderable, but jumping-jesus-with-a-furry-tail, it just doesn't make any sense, I mean even if a squirrel's life is no more meaningful than that of a rock, then what about rocks? Why do they float in space? Why is there space? If squirrels don't matter, why have space? Why is there anything?
Destiny? Ridiculous. Rocks in Space? Equally ridiculous. Ridiculousness? Absurd as a sweet-smelling turd. I am destined to die penniless and right. A dried, curled up carcass next to jimmy's house waiting to be shoveled into the next nothing.
Warden, okay, get me out of this prison, I choose freedom - I choose it now, let me out. I have eternity for nothing, I have right now for me. Me, me, me. I am tired of always thinking of others. September 12th is going to start the new golden age of squirrel. From now on, B sharp or B flattened - (music humor) that's squirrelwrites copyrighted...any of you jackasses want to buy that on a mug?

tweet tweet

I get called in to see the warden and he says to me "ya know squirrel, you're a funny guy." and of course I predictably retort "well, do you mean funny, laugh out loud, haha funny, or funny, curious and strange funny?" and the warden answers shortly, "both."
He continues, "squirrel, around here, funny is not appreciated. Funny is a problem. Funny makes people uncomfortable. All types of funny. I read your last post on the internet, and you are not staying here. Your parole hearing will happen on the 12th, with or without you. You will be paroled. You will leave, and if you ever come back, I will have you remove a section of your own large intestine, and I will personally make you suck dirt through it for 24 hours day until you die. Now go take some pictures of flowers, or some other sissie bullshit that you do, and shut the hell up until the day I finally get you and that teeny little pecker of yours out of my jail."
Well, I don't think I need to say it out loud, but I am going to anyway. My feelings are hurt, and I don't even have a bird.

on second thought

I was walking in the prison yard, again, as my parole hearing date approaches, I have been afforded additional privileges- and I came upon these two feathers, and just as I was contemplating the freedom a bird's feather symbolizes, and taking this sighting as a sign - that I must be paroled, I must fly free. I could now see clearly that without freedom, existence is an opaque experience.
I took a few more steps, and I suddenly saw a lot of feathers strewn all over the yard. it appeared that our winged friend put up pretty good fight, before he was eaten - right there in a grizzly testament to what freedom really is about. I imagine there is another pile of him somewhere else where his digested remains were shat out eventually. I built a small cairn in his honor and then puked.
My furry little nuts and ass tell me that freedom is just another word for "get ready to be eaten alive...against your will." Freedom - no thank you.

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silk

This is corn silk. I am not a botanist, but I think this is the female part of the corn/cob - the tassel spreads the love, the silk receives the love, and pretty soon we eat the children.
BTW - I think they are going to release me (on parole) on schedule, in a little over a month now (9/12). Of course, now I do have a camera, I do have our prison yard garden (where I have been taking my photos), I have smokes, I have a little more "free" time on the computer, and on the outside? I don't have a house (foreclosed), I don't have a wife (abandoned), I don't have my kids (whoever they are). What I realize, now, is that I don't have any reason to leave - other than freedom . And just what would I do with that?
A beautiful trap, like corn silk, some might say.

whoa, I am tired

I am well over an hour and twenty minutes past my bedtime now, and this stay up all night stuff is wearing a little thin. I think I'm crashing, coming down soft but fast. I'm open and I'm closed, it is morning and it is night. Crap.

finally got a camera

and I like flowers, and hate you. These are forget-me-nots. I am staying up all night. I am posting until I drop. Look at that blue, it makes me want to be a flower. Come and pollinate me. I am very pretty like a flower, and delicate like a flower, and precious like a flower, I may be a flower, I may be all things.

you get it, don't you

there was a hole in the sky
into which i could not climb
an opening where i could not escape
there was no place in it for me to hide
but i could see it, a hole in the sky

ah, whatever

"I've done a lot of work for the community, most of it naked." That is how I plan to start my parole hearing plea. Pretty witty, I think, yet with a sense of whimsy they are sure to find enchanting. By the end of the thing, I suspect they (whoever "they" are) will be eating out of my hand, or paw, or whatever it is. I hope there are some chicks on the hearing council, or board, or whatever it is. I really like chicks, i've been in here a long time and I still really like the females. But you know, all the respect in the world to mrs. squirrel, but I have kind of been thinking that it is a shame to limit my loving to one dame. I mean, let's be honest, I am pretty special, and I do think I could please a large number of the ladies. Not only "could please," but probably, "should please." And yes, a large number, but one at a time. All sizes of the ladies, all colors of the ladies, but one at a time, because that's how this squirrel cracks it. All the deliciously soft and lusciously curvy ladies, I really could make each and every single - or married - one of them happy; slowly, then quickly, then slow again, very slow, and, i gotta go, i really gotta go.

part 2

okay this was a two part thing and this was the part one:

please, please, quit taking my stuff
i want my stuff
it is my stuff
pretty please
i did not know
i gave it away
i gave it to you
and now
i did not know
you would keep it.

and now, step forward to back into part two:

you can not have it
i do not want you to have it
and you say,
"you can not take from me
what you have not given."
and i say
"you can not give back to me
something I have not given
or you did not take from me in the first place."
and you walk away.
please, please, quit taking my stuff.