Liberty's Sparkle (18)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (18)"
   
   Tom was cool and full of the proper protocols when inviting the delicious girl named after freedom into his home, opening the door, giving her a casual knuckle-bump; next, offering her a seat in his crummy, indoor chaise lounge and brewing her up some organic green tea, which he iced.
   Liberty was elegantly gregarious and gracious; plus, had a pulsating pinch of glee, adding to her vocal motions, explaining the death of her elderly friend Mr. McQuade, and apologizing for Faye's politically incorrect behavior, though still, it was progressive--a bit paradoxical.  
   All Tom could think of were love-making lyrics in Country Music songs and kissing Liberty's full lips smeared in the glow of bubble gum-pink lip gloss.  But he kept it cool.  Let her pour forth her misery, him drinking the sadness as friends are supposed to do.  And he couldn't believe that after she left with a departing kiss on the cheek and a warm breast-touching embrace--he now had a friend.  A real one.  

The Dutchman Arriveth--in Arkansas

   
   "The Dutchman Arriveth--in Arkansas"
   
Having, possibly, a Serbian or Southeastern European gene,
I professed, when asked by my teacher, as a freshman in high school of how cool and keen;
Specifically, that I was genetically infused with the Yugoslavian machine,
And that I am friends with a dude having a Nordic mien;
Moreover, the dude said that he was Dutch in that same class,
And when we were free he'd dip SKOAL before kissing a lass;
Furthermore, we energetically engaged in teenage mirth and mischief galore,
For he would lead by toilet-papering the suburbs in order to our benign chaos score--
Paybacks and pranks wrapped in one--
What a heck of a time under Arkansas' Moon reflecting the radiant Sun.  

Liberty's Sparkle (17)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (17)"
   
   Liberty acted more miserable than she was actually feeling.  She kinda, well, most definitely wanted to dump Faye for the day, going on her own way to have boy/girl synergy with Tom, though not in carnal fashion.  Just a guy.  A guy to hang out with.
   She got his address the other night, wending her way through the Midwestern grasslands until coming upon a trailer park, where American flags flapped proudly by way of the four winds.  Too, there were barking dogs chained up, plenty of beer cans overflowing the dumpsters, and noticing Tom's Honda, she gently pulled her hybrid into a gravely parking space next to it.
   She knew her intentions.  To cry on a dude's shoulder.  To remember the musk of man.  To have consolation and a strong upper body comfort her woes.  Indeed, Tom was the only civilized male she knew, even though he was a dashingly dangerous daisy of sorts; still, she held her breath not, exiting her car, and marching with total cool in Tom's front door direction, of a freaking mobile home.  God Bless the American Dream.   

Liberty's Sparkle (16)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (16)"
   
   Mr. McQuade had passed violently in his sleep, fighting and challenging the angel of death till he had no more; regardless, them blonde Nordic females adoring bravery, took him up heavenways, till beyond the big neon glitter of galactic illumination, into a unified state of grace and eternal peace in a livelihood of loving, being an Irish storyteller forever charmed by sublimity, and having English friends capable of documenting his deliverance.  Liberty and Faye were the only ones at the cremation; furthermore they stood near a crooked creek, water barely flowing, but so alive, dumping his ashes into the challenge of nature.
  
FAYE
He was a tough old bird, and he will be missed.

LIBERTY
Never forgotten--not this year.

FAYE
I heard that in a Roddy Piper movie.

LIBERTY
The poor in spirit shall, uh--theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Make yourself like unto a child did Christ offer in the Proclamation of the Kingdom.

FAYE
We shouldn't get that deep; he was an old man after all.

LIBERTY
Ya, but he was a freaking cerebral scrapper.  And gave charity as well.  Glimpsed her golden Crucifix the old man had given her, so shiny and full of diamond-like sparkle on the Messiah's wounds.  And Liberty wondered.  Wondered if it was all real.  Life; plus, that of money.  She rubbed the Crucifix; next, offered silent prayer for Mr. McQuade.    

Liberty's Sparkle (15)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (15)"
   
   Faye ultimately went back to her apartment and brooded; specifically, she knew she wasn't Trump wife material; still, no guy had ever turned her down for carnal injection.  She just wanted to yell at Tom, like:  "Mr. Miyagi should tell Daniel Son to go get some trim.  To find the rich and savory fruits in life; next--wax on; wax off."  Yup, she was pissed and hurt.
   Tom remained in Liberty's modest residence, Spanky sitting cheerfully on his lap, licking him with love.  Liberty thinking the guy was cute and all but a bit of a flower, and not totally meek, yet a wild flower--very hard to nurture and make blossom.
   Nonetheless, Liberty genuinely adored his gentle bizarre, that not quite counterpoise of spirit, but a hard-working dude he seemed, and just having recently been through so much torturous trauma.
   She sat down next to him, gently squeezed his hand, smiled dumbly, saying:  "It always gets better Tom--at least ya gotta hope and pray so.  Ya know?"
   Tom calmly nodded his head, yet his intense gray eyes were totally locked on the glowing forest-green of Liberty's.  

Liberty's Sparkle (14)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (14)"
   
   Tom was completely coherent, at least that he understood what good breasts were--a psychiatrist once told him:  "Tom, it is not uncommon for a man to wonder what a woman's breasts feel like--this is the normal state of being incarnate."  Tom got it; still, being encompassed by Faye's circling strut got him feeling creepy concerning a hot piece of lass and trash, so balanced; alas, people don't know the harm of moderation and counterpoise; it is the axiom of altruistic sublimity that commands the soul into Papa's loving, eternal embrace, not equality.  Whatever, he was drinking.
   
FAYE
So, you don't want to have sex with me--what, are you a complete limp noodle?

LIBERTY
Faye, casual and cool, huh?

TOM
Both of you are lovely ladies.  I am happy and have gracious gratitude for the beer buzz and mercy; however, it is not my intention to engage in intercourse.

FAYE
Dude--you're lonely.  Stops strutting, sitting on his futon anchored lap.  Dude, just engage me.  Hell, we'll all be dead soon.  Let passion burn before the world is scorched by the aliens.

TOM
Faye?  May I call you this name?

FAYE
Yoda, of course you can.    

TOM
I just need to get calm and cool--ya know, get my wheels underneath me.  As a girl might put it, I feel like I've been in a state of menstruation for a while.  It has been shit.  But I don't wanna bang the average customer damn't.  Gets a glimmer in his onward glance.  I want some Aces up here on the freaking bar!  A girl with fight, love, and muster to make me her man!

FAYE
Hell ya!  Gets off of him, slowly, and with hopes of resonating seduction.  Liberty can hook you up; she's a good girl.

LIBERTY
Like heck--I freaking drank beer today.  Blushes a set of darling dimples.   

Liberty's Sparkle (13)

   
   "Liberty's Sparkle (13)"
   
"I am not dead!  I am not dead!"
Next, did Tom think of the sophomoric movie dubbed TED;
Indeed, chicken salad and a checkout girl's buttocks seem the fruits of life divine,
Yet what soul wants to merge the Holy Spirit into suicide-swarming swine?
And did Christ not offer that only against the Holy Spirit is the unforgivable sin?
Thus, embrace the Good Ghost and hope your local hockey team, on the ice, does win.
We all got the mystic mojo to deliver pizza and drink beer,
Yet what soul tames the sinister pride that reflects our inner fear?
Moreover, a cancerous region in the brain,
Or a tumor that cannot be mollified or have a tame
Into the shrink of a Moon waning bad things gone, very long;
Next, the little wax of something that spawns an illuminating birth into something strong.
"Hell," might the cowboy ponder as since Staubach they did squander,
Yet UCLA bred and fed, doing the money launder;
Hence, everything was cool for Tom, but he wouldn't have sex
With Faye's offensively yet sweet offer of a rock and roll hex;
Alas, his heart broke for Liberty--
The one golden girl, surely able to set his inner strength free.