Church of the Broken Axe Handle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZbH6gzsqto

Church of the Broken Axe Handle by Derrick C. Brown, from his collection 'Scandalabra'.

I can't say enough. Every line, is so good, so perfect. I wish there really was a church like this.

Ode to Irvine Welsh

"An thas whein starit runnin', tha wee palice officas litele feets tryin tae move a bit fasta, bu their fat asses can't keep up. maist of em are prety slow. thas why none uv us ave ever been caught. me an tha boys, one store ta tha next. faces on posters en maist uv the stores en  es litle shitole uv a town"

"Wait, so, are you saying that none of you have ever been caught?"

"Well, obviously we ave, but neva if we saw em cawmin"

"Like in the incident where your brother was shot?"

"Yeah, jus like that. E'll all be shootin' up in mother superiors kitchen, an have tha door kickit in an all run fer tha winda, bu tha litle palice officas ill all be awaitin et tha battum uv tha fire escape. But if were ona train an decide ta take some litle lateys purse when we guh ta get off, an some palice officas stanin en tha station an sees us, ell we git away evry time"

"Could you, explain what happened to your brother?"

"Eah, I gess could. Bu furst, he wount my brotha. I took em unda me wing when we wa yanga."

"And, gave him heroin?"

"Yeah. he woulda foun it imself."

"Do you hold yourself responsible for his death?"

"Eh. Every dae. Now, ya wanda knao wha happent ta him er jus sit an paint fingas?"

"Sorry, please, as you were saying,"

"I took em unda me wing when we wa yanga, shawed im is real famiy."

"who was?"

"Me, sick boy, mother superior, and darcy. Mother Superior ist bout ten years older then all of us. Is parens died when he wast yunga and as uset their life savins ant insurance money ta fund awll uv our addicshins. Anywae, we wast at a train stashion an decitet ta snag ourselves sum money, Sick Boy braught is  itle gun wit im, an as it urns up tha itle prick we triet ta roub was a undacuhvae palise offica, and he tries ta arres us an so we staret ta run, and he firet uh few shawts sa Sick Boy firet a few back, bu what he dint know was that me brathae, mista hunt, wast bein eld by tha palice offica."

"So what are you doing in here?"

"I wast so fuckin pist at em all, Sick boy, Mother Superior, the palice officas, me parents, evrywon, so I wint off ant kellet em."

In the house, speaking in the tounge of sailors.

"You're, you're just, just, you're just always so fucking angry. It drives me crazy, why can't you just fuckin' lighten up? Take a god damn joke."

"Oh, oh, alright, okay, so this is uh, this is because I have no fucking sense of humor? You wanna hear joke or something?"

"Yeah I'd fucking love to hear a fuckin' joke from you."

"Is that gonna make you stop fucking everyone you meet?"

"It was--f-for Christs sake Gene, do you have to put every argument we have back to these little isolated inci--"

"Don't you dare pull that shit with me; every argument we have is becasue you've been fucking someone"

"Oh bullshit."

"Oh real fuckin' lady-like,"

"Are you really gonna talk to me about manners? Mr. Sailormouth."

"Oh, that was real fucking clever Annie. No, no, I'm truly honestly surprised at the amount of wit that you have."

"You are such an ass."

"And, you, are fucking whore. No pun intended."

"Fuck you Gene."

"Is it because I'm not successful?"

"What?"

"Is it because I'm not successful? Are you just growing so sick of waiting around for me, paying the bills, like--just, I need to know."

"I don't love you."

"Why the hell do you stick around?"

"You always forgave me."

Smarts.

"Before he was 25, Nikola Tesla had already invented the induction motor...
I always thought that I would have found a cure for schizophrenia by 25."

I remember signing and dancing and joking. I remember days when I could leave my house. I remember being comfortable enough to make physical contact with someone. I remember feeling okay to hug someone, to hold a hand, to give a little smooch.
I remember being called. I remember my house only being the place where I slept. I remember standing in front of people with steady hands.
I remember being able to make friends with anyone.

Now i'm just nervous, I have panic attacks when I see words like "hang out". My personal space has more control over me then any drug I've taken. I stay mostly to my house. I have a little "nook" in my bedroom, filled with books. I watch five, maybe six episodes of crimanal minds a day. I watched the first season of wilfred in one sitting. The Star Wars saga is watched bi-weekly. I go days without phone calls or text messages. When someone asks me "Hey Gene, want to do something?" I spit out the first thing that comes to my head: oh, y'know.
Confused, they'll say "no, i don't." realizing what I've said I retort something like: oh, I'm not feeling well tonight, but thank you for the offer.
I ignore phone calls; it's easy for people to tell that you're lying when they can hear your voice.