The Whitefish tapes

  Chapter 2 Gravity Gravity has no rainbow .  You are not an arc .  You are not even an explosion. Were you, you might trace the narrowest ellipse of desire. A likelihood of doomed footprints, your trajectory realized then abdicated like all the hopes you had when you were younger .  There is no hope.  Y ou won't leave a foot print , not even were you to walk through your own ashes.  Hold onto the lie. Work ends at 10:00 but closing starts at 9:30 .  This is not a lie.   Here are the things you will do .  Y ou will work.   If there is a god, he is one of those people that can’t have more than one friend at a time .  This evening between 9:16 and 10, god was friends with Cole. There can be art in a kitchen, even magic, but mostly it ' s brain damage,  blood shed and act s of the impossible stacked all the way up and  forever .  Acts of complexit y and timing that attract only critics, l...

Chapter 1 Parallax Demming New Mexico, 1985     I learned to properly worship Satan from a guy named Cole, in the mid-eighties, in a hotel room, in Demming New Mexico .  It was also the first time I paid for sex, and the first time I shot a man .  Some generational wind had blown his great grandparents across the whole of the US after blowing them over an ocean, between here and Wales, or Ireland and all the way up to a damned barbed wire fence in the southern New Mexican dessert, which is already rare on barbed wire .  There they stayed until the Welsh washed off and three generations worth came, bloomed, hungered and went down into red dirt, until poverty, and powerlessness was all that was left, that and Cole .  His lineage survived the Romans but was beaten by the welfare state, and now he barely shared a trailer with his ex-sister-n-law and her progeny and just didn't fucking eat in favor of cigarettes and whisky .  We mostly stayed in my room ...