The Son of the Cockroach Lady

February 1, 2012

Caterpillar stairway leads me to the basement so I can hide from the monsters called reality. Comfort in the dark corner with worn warped plywood Grandpop set up as my office years ago complete with a make shift desk to draw on and read comic books. 1002 Niagara Rd. The invisible dog Grandpop warned me about never came to me. Was he teasing or crazy? I’ll never know. I liked it there hiding from hippies of my dreams that were going to hurt me somehow. My dreams, visions and creativity flourished, as an 8-year-old’s should.

It was much less scary than the House on Haunted Hill, The House by the Cemetery, The House by the park, The Last House on the Left, The Last House on a Dead End Street, The House that Jack Built and my former house on Monitor rd where I lived with my paranoid schizophrenic mother. The House of Cockroaches. The neighbors called her cockroach lady. I was the Son of the Cockroach Lady.

It was (is) a small part of Camden NJ. A village they called it. Fairview Village. Nice enough to my childhood nightmarish recollections. It was a big wonderland filled with talking gray trees, shimmering golden green grass, and dirty shirtless white kids that called my name and eventually called me names.

Daddy gone, mommy in crazy hospital, I moved on Niagara Rd with Grandmom and Grandpop. I got fat and didn’t like school. Too many children. Too many rules. Too many teachers. I made fun of myself after being made fun of for being fat. I wore pants that were labeled Husky. Kids called me Husky. I went to the basement or sat in front of the TV and I would draw and draw and draw.

The neighborhood worsened as I got older. I got worse as the neighborhood got older. I escaped when I was 11-years-old.

Now I am back. I feel more afraid than I did as child. I took a walk yesterday to see the 2 houses I lived in and they were different, smaller, odd. The entire neighborhood shrunk in size, grew in population and crime. I was almost the scared scarred little white boy being stared at and made fun of once again. I wore levis instead of Huskys.

Monitor Road House -in the middle

Advertisements

Dreams Can be Fun and Not

January 28, 2012

My dreams are my only real social life these days. Sometimes the dreams are great. I have jobs, friends, girlfriends and sometimes pure happiness. Tonight or last night or morning depending on when I finish writing this was a doozy of night of bad dreams.

I woke up and had a dream that went bad but it was social. On a vacation or a trip or something with my girlfriend (it was my ex-girlfriend who was now my girlfriend for some reason but I accepted it). We did a lot of hiking and lugging clothes to a remote house or cabin in the woods. I remember suites and dresses on hangers and we made it in the cabin to meet up with families we knew and children running around. I had a bad feeling but my girlfriend was feeling fine. We hung out for a while and then it became a scene out of The Hills Have Eyes, the remake not the original. It was like some kind of horror movie with savages or cannibals suddenly attacking.

I tried to protect my girlfriend and the children but I was so afraid when suddenly these men that looked like huge skeletons. Some had dark black skin and others had albino skin. Every time they came to attack us the children would rat something and they would back off like Frankenstein’s monster from fire. It was a beautiful chant I wish I could remember. Instead of attacking us they stole our belongings. Most of them. I saw some of my suits left trashed along with my girlfriend’s dresses. She clung to my arm and asked if we could leave and I obliged. Her friend came up to us as we were in the clear and near the car. He said we have to leave because of Laura. I had no idea who Laura was. I woke up.

I fell back asleep and ended up in a house with guys I knew in my dream but not in real life. They were drug dealers. Big white bald guys that reminded me of skinheads. I was hanging out with skinhead drug dealers that could kick my ass and I felt very comfortable. I wasn’t doing drugs or anything I was just talking and watching television. A couple of times the police came in and couldn’t find anything. The second time they came in I went up stairs and showed them a small throw rug in my hand and opened it up innocently to show them I wasn’t carrying anything. I accidentally covered for my “friend” who was holding crack, cocaine and heroin. He showed me once we got upstairs. I remember thinking he only sold weed because that’s what I bought from him. He disappeared into another room and I found some cats to play with.

I wandered back downstairs when I heard the police leave. There were several guys hanging out and they were different then the previous guys yet looked the same. I tried walking out and back in different entrances to see if they would change. I finally gave up and walked outside and the sun was out and I was just below the street standing on stairs. I looked up and saw what looked like prostitutes above me. They started pulling fishing lines with baggies of crack up the stairs to sell. There were so many being pulled they were hitting my face and went in  my mouth. I kept a little in my mouth and put the rest in my hand and wandered down the stairs trying to figure out how I was going to smoke the remaining rocks oblivious to my surroundings. I woke up.

I sat and reflected and started to fantasize about doing crack and it wasn’t good. I thought of my heart and the dangerous places I’d have to go to get it. I prayed and went back to sleep.

I had several other dreams through the night that woke me up but can’t remember. I finally woke up at 5 am for the day in a good mood despite the bad dreams and the fact I was awake 2 and half hours before the alarm was set. I felt better than I have for this entire week. Odd. My low energy depressive week passed and I feel up and ready to go. I’ll probably take a nap later.


Uglytown -A Poem

January 20, 2012

 

Ugly people making

An Ugly neighborhood

Uglytown

Someone tapped y head walking the neighborhood

He made an uglier face than

He already had and ran ahead of me.

I was scared for my life, wife and money

 

We were together

My new wife and

My Best friend

Shopping on the border of

My ugly town

Uglytown

With ugly people

 

I spot Marie

Walking with a younger

Handsome me

She waves to me

From outside the store

 

I tell my girl who knows her

And we go outside while

Marie is inside another store

On the border of

Ugly town

Uglytown

 

We meet up with Marie who is with 2 older

Heavy men, one older I find out

One younger version of the older

Looking inbred and dirty

Assuming one of them is Marie’s boyfriend

 

We made a wrong turn and almost ended up

In ugly town, my town, my home.

Uglytown

 

We were at a restaurant of some sort in a mall

A mall with a view of an ugly town, my ugly town

Uglytown and

It’s ugly people

It was me, myself, my girlfriend with no name,

My best friend with no name, Marie, the guy

I thought was her new boyfriend and

 

What or who looked like her boyfriend’s father

It occurred to me that the older guy whose scraggly hair and beard kept growing and getting grayer might be her boyfriend

 

The film crew was set up and a new arrival besides the crew said

“Action”

The show officially started as we suddenly found things to talk about as if I knew my lines for a film or TV show I had no idea I was part of. I looked at my girlfriend and she stayed in character

Asking what the inbred dirty redneck friends of Marie do for a living.

 

I knew my friend and girlfriend were waiting for an answer hoping

The answer was something I could do and get me in a real job

The younger guy who was touching Marie said

They started a business installing lights or something similar.

I was going to ask him more and out table got distracted

By a fight breaking our down below in the food court

 

Children fighting children

Ugly children fighting

Pretty children and

In between children fighting

Pretty children fighting ugly children

In an ugly town, my Uglytown

Uglytown

The war has begun

I woke up

 

I went outside and lit a cigarette

I heard gunshots

I saw police lights in the distance of the ugly town

My ugly town

My ugly home

Uglytown

 

I heard the voice on a megaphone

Telling someone to drop the gun

I finished my cigarette

Business as usual on a Thursday night

Back to my

Safe little room

Escaped in a book

 

Oh ugly town, oh Uglytown

I’ll miss you one day

Uglytown

 


%d bloggers like this: