Bedecked in Bleu

This has been a fairly stressful week for me. My laptop, my creative home, has gone kaput. Happily, I have a friend (Derrick Bergeron, of New Tribal Films fame) who is going to help me out a bit, and others are also offering varied forms of assistance. 

For me, it is like I am a painter who has lost their studio. Sure, my work has (for the most part) survived, but the place where I do my work is gone, and with it has gone my comfort and ease. Now, I’m stuck on the desk top, victimized by the barrage of sounds that fill the neighborhood. It is both distracting and aggitating, having to listen to the screams of children at play and the relentless rumble of cars and music.

I have found myself sinking into a depression, which is silly, as it is just a machine and it isn’t something to get as upset about as I have. I am determined to continue on, focused on my creative output. This week, I have a poem about a cheeseburger entitled Bedecked in Bleu. It is about the Boston Bleu Burger at Ruby Tuesday’s. 

Bedecked in Bleu

I saw you

On the menu.

Steak sauce marinated,

Cooked medium well-

Bedecked in bleu.

 

I wait

And contemplate

The chef is dressing you,

Preparing you well,

Are you ready for our date?

 

Here you come,

I’m struck dumb;

Look at that plate!

My eyes swell-

So much for such a small sum!

 

First the fries,

They’re a surprise,

I eat some

I relish their smell,

Admire their guise.

 

Next is the shake,

And I can tell by the sip I take:

This is going straight to my thighs.

I suck it till I’ve had my fill;

It is time now.

 

It’s just you and me;

I know our history:

You were a cow,

But now you’re a meal,

And I will eat you with lots of zeal.

 

A bite,

A taste,

The flavours dance on my tongue.

The flesh between my grinding teeth;

the crunching of a lettuce leaf.

The tang of bleu,

and then it is through.

 

Only drippings remain.

Samantha and the Wind (Part Three)

“Well,” said Justice, his eyes looking upwards, then sideways. “You’re a child, a female, and that makes you a girl, right?” When his eyes fell on Samantha, she was surprised at their uncertainty. It was as though Justice had forgotten too much of what it was like to be alive.

“Of course I am.” responded Samantha, wondering if she should be unsure. She noticed that she was fidgeting with her fingers, which her mother always told her not to do.

“Well, a girl is nearly a woman, and,” Justice’s pause was uncomfortable in length. Samantha was filled with loathsome anticipation before he said, “I’d really like to know what a woman likes. If a woman could think I was handsome, or maybe what she’d like to do.”

Samantha exhaled with relief. While she was no expert on what women thought, she was happy that Justice didn’t have a more lascivious request. Cheerily, she answered, saying “A woman likes a man that is kindly; one that is willing to treat her well.”

“But there has to be more!” said Justice obsessively. “I have tried being kind. I have tried listening. I have tried being a friend. Yet all of these have failed. She must look for more than that. What else! Tell me!” His eyes widened in a maniac stare, his teeth ground together; it was as though he stood in front of a treasure that he had sought all of his life, and now it was his for the taking.

“Well, some women aren’t attracted to just any man. Some have an ideal in mind.” Samantha was proud to say such a mature thing, but when she saw how crestfallen Justice had become, she wondered if she said the wrong thing. His entire face drooped like a wet sack and his shoulders bowed as though bearing a thousand pounds.

“Oh.” he said desponded, “That’s what I thought. I’m ugly.” His chin wrinkled like a prune as he held back a sob. Samantha’s spine straightened and she pounded her foot against the ground with a soft thud.

“I didn’t say that.” she announced, angered by how he twisted her words. Her cheeks glowed red and her brow was creased with frustration. “You just might not be what she thinks of as handsome. The world has a lot of people.”

“Then you think I’m handsome?” he asked, his hands reaching out for hers. Gently, he held her hand and stroked its back with his cold fingers. “Do you?” His dark eyes pleaded with her.

“I, um…” Samantha’s mind whirled, unable to find an answer that she was sure was not wrong. He was handsome enough, but she feared that if she said so, that he’d get the wrong idea. On one knee, he was the same height as her, and she tried to stop herself from wincing when she smelled the charnel scent about him.

“I am trying to sleep!” announced an irritated voice. It was the stranger in the smiling mask. The murmurings of Samantha and Justice had been irritating him for quite a while. Unlike others of his kind, he had very sensitive hearing, and he had become fed up with their whispers, which to him were like shouts. He towered over Justice, and Samantha found herself wondering if he had been that large before.

“I apologize, Vibrius, I didn’t know that you were so close.” said Justice, cowering like a supplicant. “I was just asking this young woman what she thought of me.”

“I know. I could hear your prattling tongue from a mile away. You really should not drag this poor, young thing into your pitiful obsession.” reprimanded Vibrius, who placed a hand protectively on Samantha’s shoulder. “A man like you should not ask such things of a child.”

“Well, I needed to know why Livia does not love me yet. I thought another woman’s perspective would help.” explained Justice. He hung his head ashamedly and kicked at the dirt like a scolded child. Samantha was glad that Vibrius had come to her aid, but she also felt bad that she couldn’t help Justice.

“I think you are a good-looking man, but there is something about you that frightens me.” she said calmly and quietly. Vibrius and Justice both looked at Samantha with astonishment in their eyes.

“What is it!?” exclaimed Justice as he fell to his knees, reaching for the hem of Samantha’s skirt. With a mighty slap, Vibrius knocked Justice’s hands away, causing him to collapse to the ground. “I need to know! Tell me! What’s wrong with me?” his voice broke in sobs and weeps, and tears flowed in great, salty gouts from his eyes, muddying the dirt below. Samantha pulled the hem of her dress out of the groveling man’s grasp and wrapped her arms around Vibrius’ hand and wrist.

“Feh.” scoffed Vibrius, shaking his head at Justice’s display. “Why don’t you be a man about this? Willows weep less than you do.”

“I can’t help it,” responded Justice through a veil of sobs and pitiful moans, “Love does strange things to a man’s mind and heart. He becomes thirsty for it if he has gone without it too long, and I have been walking in the desert of loneliness for far too long. My heart feels so numb, ripped, and torn…”

“Makes me glad that I can’t love.” interrupted Vibrius, a smile hidden beneath his smiling mask and revealed only by the tone of his voice.

“You are intolerable!” admonished Justice, thrusting a finger through the air, pointing at Vibrius with menace. “An unfeeling monster, that’s what you are. Your own people cast you out.”

“So did yours.” responded Vibrius. “We’ve been through all of this before, so if you are done, sleep calls to me. I’d like to have some before the new day dawns.” Passively Samantha watched as the two argued, feeling herself becoming fearful that there would be a fight. For a moment, she felt bad for causing the argument, but then she realized that she was not at the root of the issue. What they argued about, while connected to her presence, went far beyond anything to do with her existence.

She released her grasp on Vibrius’ arm and slowly skulked away as the pair continued arguing, oblivious of her departure. Samantha felt freedom perch proudly on her shoulder as she walked deep into the darkness, clambering carefully from glimmering moonbeam to shimmering moonbeam as they poked through the forest’s canopy. Glee filled her as she confidently walked on a soft bed of pine needles, letting their calming scent fill her nose.

When they look back and weigh everything he's done, they will realize...

Created with the intent of being made into flair for Facebook, this is dedicated to my good friend Dickie, who has more nicknames than anyone else I know. The picture of him was pulled from his Facebook, and the design is an emulation of pins supporting Nixon for president. I guess that would make this, in art school terms, a found object homage.

A Script, Tentatively Titled “Not Settling”

FADE IN

INT SET DAY

Anne sits patiently. We see little of the set. Frank is seated across from her, ready to conduct his interview.

FRANK

Sorry to have kept you waiting so

long. I know that you’re between

takes and…

ANNE

(interrupting)

Don’t worry about it. There’s time.

There’s always time. Half of making

movies is waiting. I’ve got that

part down pat. Seems like I’ve been

waiting all my life for this.

FRANK

(takes out a pad

and smiles)

So, this is your big break, huh?

 

ANNE

(sits, looking

serious and

sarcastic)

Yes. I’ve worked really hard to get

here.

ANNE (V.O.)

What I’m saying is a lie. This

isn’t my big break, but I know

that’s what I’m supposed to say.

However, I did work very hard to

get here.

INT FAMILY ROOM NIGHT

In the past, an 8 year old Anne is sitting and watching television contentedly with her parents. Washed in blue light, she is entranced by the flickering images.

ANNE (V.O.)

I’d watch the actresses on TV as

they received their awards,

confident that I’d have my own

some day.

INT BEDROOM NIGHT

Still in the past, a 13 year old Anne is looking at herself in a mirror, wondering if she’ll ever have a womanly body.

ANNE (V.O.)

As I grew older, I started to

wonder if I would actually be able

to become what I wanted to be. Not

every girl grew up to look like

Marilyn Monroe.

INT COLLEGE STAGE NIGHT

In the recent past, Anne sits on the edge of the stage, not content. Bertie is talking with her, consolingly.

ANNE

(sadly)

I don’t know if I can keep this up,

Bertie.

 

ANNE (V.O.)

I started my career like most other

actresses, doing musical plays:Little

Shop, Godspell, and Once Upon a Mattress,

However, it was the role of Audrey

that came back to haunt me.

BERTIE

I saw you a few months ago in Little Shop

and I thought that you.

were brilliant. You brought such a

tender vulnerability to the part.

ANNE (V.O.)

Ugh. I heard it a thousand times

from friends, family, and

strangers. It made me think I

could really make it.

INT CASTING OFFICE DAY

Three people sit in judgment of Anne’s acting ability. Brent, Bianca, and Bob. Brent is a typical Hollywood “suit”, while Bianca is a “butchy lesbian with small boobs.” Bob looks utterly fascinated with Anne, though he is not as well dressed as Brent. Anne is dressed for the audition and stands before them feigning confidence.

ANNE (V.O.)

And then, it was always the same

thing.

BRENT

(smiling)

Thank you for your time.

BIANCA

(smiling)

We’ll get back to you soon.

BOB

(grinning,

he nods his

head)

 

ANNE (V.O)

But I know they were actually

thinking…

BRENT

(disappointed)

Her tits are too small.

BIANCA

(disgusted)

Her tits are too big.

BOB

(grinning,

he nods his

head, “singing“)

UMP-ST UMP-ST Doo-Doo-Dee-Doo.

UMP-ST UMP-ST

INT SET DAY

Back at the interview…

FRANK

Why do you think they chose you for

the part?

ANNE

(smiling)

I guess it is because I’m just

right.

ANNE (V.O.)

It also helped that the director

was a friend from college.

BERTIE

(interrupting)

I’m sorry, but we need you now.

ANNE

(feigning

happiness)

Busy, busy.

Frank watches as Anne walks onto the set a few feet away. The “set” is revealed to be little more than a basement with a green screen set up. A stocky guy hoists a thinner guy onto his shoulders as Anne approaches.

BERTIE

Okay, this is the monster. He’s got

two heads, and is covered in warts,

really nasty. And he’s got a big

ol’ wang. Don’t worry: it’ll stay

artsy. Okay? All right!

(shouting)

Effects, get the Bloodgasm ready. I

want her covered! Got it? Okay. 3,

2, 1! Action!

                                  (We hear monster “noises”.)

ANNE (V.O.)

Sometimes, it’s strange; the things

we’ll do to make our mark or follow

our craft.

ANNE

(screams

piercingly)

 

BERTIE

(loudly)

Bloodgasm! Now!

(The crew douses her with blood, producing a huge splash while the monster bellows excitedly.)

FADE OUT