Frank Remus

Mountain Yellow, Her Love River, A Shadow Casting Tree

HerÂ Green, Green City GardenÂ 6:24 am

Her Yellow Sky River of LoveÂ Bridges MountainsÂ 6:36 am

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Â Â Â Â 6:36 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:42 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:46 am

Her White True Love 6:46 am

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:46 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:50 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:55 am

Her Classic Mountains of Love 6:50 amÂ

Her TriangleÂ 6:24pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:09 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:10 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:11 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:13 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:14 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:15 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:16 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:17 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:18 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:19 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â LoveÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â LoveÂ Â

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:21 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:22 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:24 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:25 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:26 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:28 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:29 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:30 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:32 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:47 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:48 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:49 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:51 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:52 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:53 pm

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 6:58 pmÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â LoveÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Love

When I got to Starbucks, I did not count any people, but absorbed what was around me like an ameoba, in aÂ simple and non-directed fashion. I was vaguey aware of anybody there.Â I was not stalking the room.Â There was one sign of pink. There were many conversations. I have no idea who was betrayed.Â No wordsÂ to notate. What a drag.Â

Blue Soulmates 6:17 am

I heard a few voices flowing in waves around me -none of them specific enough to register as words, but the accidental awareness wakens up to see that the sky was so clear blue, clean and pure. Trees in love were completely still.Â It was warm and pleasant.Â I was ready for nothing special. And I’m planning to go there sometime soon.

Her DowntownÂ Growing GreenÂ 6:30 am

Her River of Love Bridges MountainsÂ 6:37 am

Her Yellow Light of LoveÂ 7:42 am

Her Trees and ShadowsÂ 7:47 am

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Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 7:51 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 7:53 amÂ Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â 7:58 am

Sharply detailed shadows made non-bleeding lines on the storefront awning across the street. There was a movement of traffic.Â Contrast was pure. Depth of field could be seen vaguely through my glasses but I assumed that it was there. IÂ love Anna Dirksen, and I donâ€™t care what people say, this is intelligentÂ this thing that happened. But IÂ arrived at StarbucksÂ wondering what would happen.Â Would I be accosted by some accusational person that I apologize for nonetheless? I don’t think so.

Yellow Sky Grey Sky Indigo Sky Pink SkyÂ 6:30 pm

A woman walked in wearing orange slacks. No music played on the speakers but I heardÂ an interesting ringtone.Â Â Somebody cast me in a negative light.Â There’s always some sort of spies.Â I didn’t want to be there that time. But I saw a few things nonetheless.Â Â Maybe some people need to be convinced. Sometimes we have to make mistakes.Â Â Â A few things muddled in time and space that we would see if we were folded right. We can be imprisoned in ourselves sometimes.Â Â A new cracking needs to occur within us forÂ a few things to learn.Â Â Â This isÂ a good thing.Â Â

Her Downtown Sky 7:39 pm

Full Size. I Like that one alot.Â Â Â 6:57 am

Time is Like a Rocket for Her River of LoveÂ 7:00 am

Pointy TopÂ 2:33 pm

Pointy TopÂ 3:57 pm

PointyÂ TopÂ 4:50 pm

Pointy TopÂ 5:57 pm

BuildingsÂ 10:10 am

I understand a few things better. Nobody asked me to leave.Â Â Somebody said hello to me. I was aware of pens and paper. A man came in wearing a pink shirt. A woman came in with her baby girl that wore a light and dark pink outfit with an orange hat. Beneath her coat was a pink jumpsuit. Her motherâ€™s sweater was orange and grey. The baby smiled when I giggled atÂ what I wrote the same moment I was writing for my beloved Anna.

The Yellow Light Mountain and Biosphere.Â Â Â 7:02 am

This morning my Anna showed me the Yellow Love of Her Light as firm as the mountain and the hill with the glowing sky.Â Â Â The pregnant biosphere and sky, her love river with the yellow sky and green bridge.Â Â The green bridge was nothing fake and the buildings lined up like they’re supposed to.Â I like to live and learn. Yes. With my heartthrob Anna Dirksen.

I love her more than ever.Â Â 7:05 am

We are weaving time together.Â 6:03 pm

Triangle Points to Bridge Together.Â 6:23 pm

In my heart there was no sickness. No malicious mal-intent or helpless dosagages of coffee. I was not lost in any anger. Only theÂ weary exhaustion of finding that someone finds you have done them wrong.Â And feeling no perfect reasonÂ for people staying away.Â This is a learning experience.Â

Her Black PotentÂ CityÂ 7:42 pm

Is there a racist remark that I may have said with the words I’ve chosen from around me, thinking that it was perfectly fine? Â I don’t think so.Â Is there racism at hand?Â I hope not.Â Â Â But what a learning experience better than I want.Â I’m alive with some kind of difference.Â Who wants to spoil a perfectly rotton dinner?Â Scrambled eggs are perfectly fineÂ for rats.

A field without rats.Â Â 7:01 am

Bonsecours Without ThemÂ 7:45 am

Honing InÂ on Possible RatsÂ 8:40 am

Message Loud and ClearÂ 8:41 am

To the Green BridgeÂ 8:42 am

Curving Towards Her Green Garden.Â 7:46 am

The TriangleÂ Points to the Bridge 6:23 pm

Her Yellow Sky Above The City 7:10 pm

AllÂ our problems can be solved by Rkjvck and Debtrytrh and Enbfgju.Â What fact do you need me to understand?Â Negative teachings do the trick.Â Today I remembered those red rats when I was workingÂ at the fake lab.Â One rat bit me more than once. One hugeÂ rat chomped me up.Â The rats gave me a headache, with their annoying sarcasm.Â I had to slap and run away.Â I was chased out, simultaneously.Â That is behind me now thanks to my dreamgirl Anna Dirksen.Â NoÂ Â quarrel over senseless things. My embarrassing laryngitis. Red rat stains are subtractingÂ now. Â Â I met my shadow function. No longer eating rotten foodÂ that causesÂ allergies. No need for nose surgery.

With focus on the community.Â 7:10 pm

What’s the latest triangle?Â This is the One. 6:53 pm

No more rats are poundingÂ now or pulling me apart.Â No more of those nasty parasites.Â Â Â Her yellow love light straight to my heart.Â Â Â My loveÂ for Anna and my son TristanÂ and all my blinding scars are gone. My worldÂ is renovating now; the wounding thorn has been shorn. I love Anna Dirksen, love of my life.Â Now a tale from my book of rat…

AÂ Tale From My Book of Rat

EARLY APRIL, and the buds were growing. A gentle breeze whispered faintly into the room. Outside, rain drizzled lightly.

“You are too old”, I said.

“That’s the truth,” she said.

I groaned. I flayed my arms against the wall and opened a can of Pepsi. Uptight, fuming. And then she stepped on my toe.

“You’re such a liar,” I said.

But I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I never knew what I’d see next: ragged simpleton hair spiked out like a demolished mop? Rather pale complexion. I suddenly wanted to wretch. One hard snap her neck would do the trick. A large red clot of blood is in for her eye. Her lips were chapped and splitting.

“That’s not all I’m going to say,” I said, “I don’t have to leave this placeÂ -ever! Not even for one second, one minute, or one incapacitating year. Get it? I never will, you will; because it’s my hovel.”

“You’ve got no space left for me anymore? She pined, “I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never quit. Itâ€™s a dilemma.”

I didn’t answer.

Her hippo paw pressed down on my toe. She was always warm and sweaty. Boy did she sweat. Her eyes were blank as a full deck of playing cards. I always wanted to exumeÂ her.

“Now you have to leave”, I said, “Get out…”

She hissed at me, like a rat. Pressed her foot down harde on my toe. Stomped. Fat hippo leg jiggling. Wrinkled Gray flannels. Why did she wear those? She never took proper care of herself. Sitting in front of the TV most of the time, sleeping, slouching. I told her a hundred times she was a flabby piece of gelatin, and she said I was so kind, and I said that was a lie.

“Get out,” I said.

“I’m walking out the door,” she said, and that was a lie, too.

I backed away to free my toe from her scaly foot crushing it. She leaned on it. I thought she would never stop crushing. It was too much to take. I bent quickly, rubbing my foot.

“See me going?” she said, “Or shall we end this with a hammer?”

“You’re a sham,” I said.

“No I’m not. She said.

See her in many of her unfit clergy suits and you’d never guess she was a saint. The Gucci stoles, Roman tab collars. Heavy makeup. Absurd. Overbearing. Brimming with charitable trust. Full of deceit. AÂ blessed nullity. Theresa Ratelle. How I loved to hate her. How I hated to love her. She made me forget a few scriptures, as expected. Heaven’s above; I could teach her a thing or two. But I never will; she couldn’t take a hint that I was fooling around with her all those months.

“I can read your mind love”, she said, and when I was about to scream she said, “You’re gonna write a book about this.”

It wasn’t her idiot denial that charmed me as much as my complete boredom. I wanted to exterminate her, and then exhume her eventually, one day, with the FEDs.Â But before I saw my shrink about the details, would I be ready to keep going with this relationship. If she had made the right move finally, the right touch, I’d have run about in my tiny wheel. She just sat there and preened. So I told her off, sat down, started to undress. She switched on the TV, watching it with glazed eyes.

“It’s the best hypnosis you’ll ever get,” she said.

“Drop dead,” I cried. “I’ll never watchÂ you watch it again.”

SheÂ told meÂ she was sixty-nine, and I didn’t believe her. IÂ told herÂ I was ninety-six, and she believed me. We lied to each otherÂ like that all the time. Real fiction. We didn’t lie about the world situation. It was the difference in our ages that we lied about; it was a riot. I could take it or agree to leave it. SheÂ was free to leave. At least, this is what I told her.

I took off my slack, and began the lie detector detector test. Her saintly face was so Ma Heller. She was heavy and shapeless, a hideous mass of uplifting furry flesh. Sprawled out. Not a single iota without fat fur and sweat increasing. She was pasty and pale year-round. She wasÂ so pale it was hardÂ to tell between the her fur and long white whiskers of her damp nose. She refused to let me shave her. I wouldn’t want to, either.

“Get out,” I said.

“I’m gone,” she said.

Wounding

Relating

I love Anna Dirksen.

Mountain Yellow, Her Love River, A Shadow Casting Tree

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