The Cycle of Swords – Ryan Bry
October 25, 2017
(inspired by Citizen Kane)
The clock ticked until it fell off the wall. We were there, when it happened. We decided we would be there and we were discussing the way that old men exit their cars when we heard the tick-tick-crash. We paused and then returned to our discussion, not bothering with the wounded keeper of time. There was a certain way that Jay Bengrove Parks got out of his Mercedes that perplexed us, his eyes still used to the motion and his body still used to sitting. Maybe some dicrotic-beated song had played on the radio and his essence keenly searched for new information. New information. That’s the point of it all, right? Hold on . . . point of it all? We’re gonna have to radio Jim “No Plan” Gallagher on that one.
We point the machine north
up to Fjordsberg
to catch lilting Jim “No Plan” Gallagher.
“Two problem solvers there are, keek and keep your eyes on me, one’s muscle and one’s guile. Three men and one woman rode to a bar in Oklahoma and what good ever came of that? Seven pythons had to pay the big bill in order to get their ignorance back. Nameless Chuck had a mighty nice pet pencil. Muscle and guile. You either got muscle, or you got guile. No way you survived this long—and it has been a long lonesome road—without one a’ them. They’re inventing new ways to blow your nose in London. Partly why I left. The weather ran late today, can you believe that? Oh wait, point of all? The point of it all is to get into your pajamas and watch the dreams bloom.”
the clock has
things to say
like the cactus in the creek
Have you been spending your dollars, guarded one? Lean onto fourteen pillars of unrepentant white. The cycle of swords. This is what the clock says. Anita put clock pieces into her hands and threw them about the air like they were confetti. Dying world, can you spare a little energy for my carburetor? Thanks, chicken. Milkweed montage, my petunias are non-fictional!
What a real dud, that blue armband. Come on, bastard kid. Let’s go out for drinks.