Bugs and Parachutes

Phr33w1l · March 2021

So, for the fourth and final time (on FB), using all of Pearl Jam's song titles (and then some), this is my little story about nothing in particular and it is called:

Bugs and Parachutes

(I got some gas)

Hey foxymophandlemama, that’s not for you, aye davantina no way! That’s for Jeremy the Leatherman and his daughter! I got shit for you so don’t gimme no lip about it.. take your cropduster, get an education and be gone off my porch.

Alright, I’ll take the long way at seven o’clock, gonna see my friend the bee girl at Lukin, we call her crazy Mary, she had a brain of J that used to push me, pull me like an animal! She tried to make a betterman of me, she tried to help, help me gremmie outta control from this green disease I got when I was a bushleaguer in the army reserve.. she tried so hard and got so far but in the end it didn’t even matter.. she tried to show me how to live as I’m thumbing my way through this black, red, yellow war inside of me that I dream will kill the man I have been.. she gave me one last kiss and let me sleep a dream carved out by the moon..

I dreamed the love boat captain sailed his yellow ledbetter to a never destination over the big wave and across the oceans light years away; he got some orders from Johnny Guitar to hail, hail the glorified-G and arrange an evacuation for mankind to surrender and believe in miracles.. so they can make their quick escape from this paranoid world wide suicide of everyone pissing in the wind. Firstly, do no harm. Then put your seatbelt on, buckle up, we’re going to follow the superblood wolfmoon as it comes then goes through its retrograde path setting sail for the heart of gold in the hard sun! Why go to the river cross when there’s no way pilate and his rats will ever let us keep on rocking’ in the free world? They can’t deny me the dream for love to reign o’er me because I want this dream to last forever.

So there he goes, the man of the hour, off he goes in hiding with a wishlist and a smile half full of indifference, setting forth into the wild at the speed of sound like a dissident hitchhiker drifting alone in the moonlight and leaving here to the other side. I hope you’re not lonely without me.

I’m open while I’m sleeping by myself in my tree, under the low light of the yellow moon I can hear the sirens sing a sad whale song all night for the faithfull ghost of my fathers son to come back, sweet Lew, pry, to come back! Get right and mind your manners before gods dice is cast down like a lightning bolt by sleight of hand.. while the severed hand of a dead man named dirty Frank draws a fatal marker in the sand with the blood from a red mosquito; nothingman can save you from the whipping of a tremor christ to make you wise, as when you’re tied to satan’s bed with a black corduroy leash.

I know I am mine but sometimes it is hard to imagine an unthought known of the girl with the heart shaped box without falling into a comatose state of love and trust.. so just breathe, breathe in the air, don’t be afraid to care.. hold on to the fixer and let the rest go undone like a supersonic force of nature, like fifty million people in a dance of clairvoyants with their arms raised up and open towards the sky. It is all or none now and you might be lost and unemployable but you are still alive. You still have one more inside job to do, there’s still time, it’s no crime, use your mind to escape, you have to go around the bend once more and rise up in the last remaining light.. reach down deep inside who you are and make your getaway before being swallowed whole by the insignificance of a life wasted.

This infallible evenflow of the present tense is nothing as it seems as it reaches your heart through thin air, like a pendulum in an arc it swings from untitled future days to a wasted reprise of all those yesterdays. Whoever said you can’t keep fuckin’ up was right.. because you gotta do the evolution with the strangest tribe baby! I know it’s already been sung.. but can’t be said enough.

So before we soon forget and find our footsteps parting ways far behind us, let the records play as the small town fades in our rearviewmirror.. let us wash our grievance, let us breakerfall this habit and make a brother of every rival. Let us spin the black circle of immortality to release us from this garden so that when we finally take the last exit and are given to fly high amongst the waves of distant shores, we are able to look down and see that all of our lives were perfect.. like a picture on a sunny day.

The End.

by WMA and MFC and DR.