Cleaning My Pipe With Silence

 It would be impossible to travel in complete silence. Light does It. The Sun gives photons which bounce off her image. I'm never alone. The machines quietly hiss.  The tires from the cars splash through the slush. The cold drains your energy. I'm awake all night wondering if Jesus was related to Vampires. Of course he was. We all are connected tenuously to the undead. In Minnesota the leeches search in the dark waters for their feast. Sometimes during a naked swim on an abandoned lake you will collect a few blood suckers. It's been awhile since I have visited them, but I am aware. Summer is worse because the mosquitoes flush the air with their guidance. Looking for flesh. A quick meal of blood to grow new life. The dragonflies eat them all day long, but the air still buzzes inside the humidity.

Now it is the season of winter's cull. So stark. Cold black and white. The bears hibernate close to dumpsters. I am quiet contemplating taking a crack at Bram Stoker's Dracula. Has a vampire tale ever received it's genesis in Minnesota. Some dead cabin must contain a crude manuscript with the cooked venison scent still attached to it's carving scraps. The outhouse works if you don't mind the wind and frost tasting you on your trek to your business.

Home sweet hel. She's occasionally bored. Frozen food lasts awhile. We could go somewhere nice. But we would drink too much and say a four letter word. I have a concept for a new music album which everyone will occasionally fear. I think I will call it "Silent Vampires."

My advanced media femme thinks I quit. Maybe someday she will know me. She is traveling or not in Euro somewhere. I imagine they might discover our connection. And I will have to think clearly and calmly, develope a plan of action and activate. She most definitely knows a vampire. Maybe she was bitten once and I have the cure.