jars

So, she said that he said that a friend of his heard it from that man with the wooden eye that the

person in that house, you know, the one with the yellow door

chipped paint, yeah, that’s the one,

with a concrete garden, yeah, well,

the man in there, told the woman in the shop on the corner that the woman who smells of butter once had a son

who was born with two heads and was donated to that hospital where they cut him open

with sharp knives and placed parts of him in a jars.
Well, the jars just gathered dust and were used as elaborate door stops .

Doctors came and nurses came and doctors went and nurses went

but the pieces of the boy stayed floating in formaldehyde, floating frozen in time.
And while the boy stayed locked in his jars the woman who smelt of butter prayed

each day she prayed on  her knees she prayed while photos of her two-headed son became worn pages in well thumbed journals.

topics of conversation on late night TV shows.

The woman swore to the man at the bus stop that she had seen a visions at night.
So the man with the teeth that resembled beer soaked piano keys

walked like a ghost through the town and he remembered the boy with the two head

it’s something you wouldn’t forget he once told his son in a bar where the only sound  was that of

darts hitting a board.
And the Doctor who had performed the operation

well, he sits in a home by the sea with a jar by his bed that contains a face of the boy with two heads.

He ponders to himself, cause there’s no need to speak out loud when there’s no one to listen.

And the woman who smells of butter walks around town looking at buildings,

staring past the clouds,

muttering things under her breath she waits

waits for the day when darkness will engulf her as

the people in the town still point as she walks by,

still stare and avoid her eyes and if only she thinks, if only
and a jar still sits in a hospital behind doors

gathering dust and what’s inside will never age.

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4 comments

      • multiplemichael

        please don’t think i’m trying to be more holy than i am
        it just seems to be more struggle than it needs to be
        if you were getting paid by the word it would be correct
        i think people are lazy and this piece requires too much effort to read
        put it on a diet and send it down the runway
        laughed at your reply

        Like

      • eatmorewords

        I can work with that…appreciate you taking the time out to offer some feedback.

        When i read your first comment I initially thought you may have some relative in jar and I may have touched a nerve!!

        I’ll look at doing a scaled down version. And I’ll add some more titties…just cause I can.

        Like

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