Doppelganger

I was reminded that I have not written here for quite awhile. So a quick update. I got divorced and moved to Seattle and some healing. My latest book Tell them that you saw me but you didn't see me saw is being published by Moon Pie Press at the end of the month. Two pieces below about my Doppelganger Two Flags.


Back When

Two flags woke up next to the evangelical church. Above him the sign read: Praise God in all situations! He remembers laughing at that sign earlier, thinking, there are lots of things god might do, like the prophet Elisah showing his backside and God was a whirlwind. Dusting off his blue jeans making it look like a ritual and not wakeup on the street. Two Flags tried to reconstruct the night before; he had been drinking, not alone, thank you, but they were strangers. The bar was on a strip in downtown Portland, next to Chinatown. He had family here for a long time. He could recollect the interim of belches from Mount St. Helens, as he and his girl walked the Grotto. The elevator to the saints and the rosary laid out by someone in the sky. Those roses a relief in their smells from sinners that wander the park.


Dr. Two Flags
When Two Flags that grasshoppers were going to swarm east of the mountains, he took out his Hopewell pipe (shaped like a bear) and puffed Borkin Riff and blessed the six ways. Grasshoppers have a cycle and they know how to party thought Two Flags. He’d been among them, even took a shovel and pounded the ground missing as many as he could, and saying “sorry brother” if he hit a few.
The garage he lived in, in Lake City had a yearly infestation of caterpillars lining one sided like a velvet yellow rug. The trees to the south had nests holding leaves and branches in a funny death. Taking his broom he’d sweep the a swath he could reach and stop knowing this is not a renters job. Getting up early and walking outside with coffee he could look at what he didn’t own. His place in Yakima was his domicile, sweat lodge, bar, love shack. His friend JC was keeping an eye on it while Two Flags worked to get enough money to pay utilities. He would borrow the electricity and put his hose on another’s faucet when necessary. That seemed like always.
He lived in a two car garage; two very tiny cars. But he liked two! Plumed for a shower and toilet. All the furniture was the owners except a TV with rabbit ears. It was not cable ready but he would grab his crotch and shout: “I’m cable ready!” His work at Children’s Hospital was moving trash and staying out of the way and pretending to understand his Philippine super. His bus was like a golden pass and he has more scrubs than a surgeon.