little things . . .

. . . like how there are basically
no buttons, no buckles, no zippers, no velcro
so that

you're constantly tying everything you wear
like shoelaces
and at the end of the day
everyone is tired and grumpy
and standing around swearing
and struggling with all the little knots
that seemed so expedient in the morning

It's hell with cold fingers

And it's amazing how fast
the locals can do it

like the professional corpse-strippers
we saw at work
in the battlefield we rode through today


little things . . .

. . . I'll miss
when I get back to 2002
Like the taste of
openfire milletcakes for breakfast
cooked on the rusty backplate
of a suit of armor
served by a friend
who is still alive

With honey?

*kisses fingertips*


little things . . .

. . . like just how I scrunch up against
my wooden saddle
in the dark
and type to you
in my chain-mail lap


little things . . .

. . . of daily life
like how out of the corner of your eye

you see the same four guys
still following you
all day



Goal Line Stand

We came over the lip of the little valley
and

*kaboomski*

The Blue Company
saw and smelled its first battlefield

The Pope's contractors --- the other team---
had a big meeting here
with some Milanese contractors -- our team--
two days ago

You could feel the panic
sweeping through Blue Company

The corporation always told us
that almost nobody dies
in this era's contractor meetings

"it's all for show and ransom"

"that's precisely why we picked the year 1368"
they said

But . . . 48 hours after the meeting
there were still unlooted corpses
on the field!
That's how many dead we were looking at

Graice kept going "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit"

So Skip, with his exquisite people skills
runs out between us and the carnage

holds his fist under his chin
and booms

"Well, Bob,
the Pope's Quarterback
is only 1 for 7
in the Red Zone this season
and you'll notice by the ruts in the mud
that when the Milanese Defense
got into its Pre-Vent formation
they forced the Fightin' Priests to punt
and then retreat to the South
beyond that line of hills"

People laughed and started breathing again

But, the fact remains
The Pope is not shitting around
This was not a Show Battle


Speaking of which . . .

interesting what you're telling me
about his current holiness's
waffling on the current moral dilemma

remember it took until 2001
for the church to apologize
for the rape of Constantinople
a couple hundred years ago

I mean 800 years ago

'bout time


little things . . .

. . . like wet wild flowers

on a fallen knight



good dog

little things like . . .

. . . the taxidermied wolf skin
on the shoulders of the
paranoid junkyard corpse looter
who somehow thought
I had designs on
the pile of corpses he was guarding

and who jump-shoved his spearhead
at my unarmored throat

that triggered a reflex
for me to make the Wolf Club Gang Sign
with my hands

and he stopped

(It was so surreal
I was separated from the pack
He would have killed me easily)

and he made the Wolf Club Gang Sign back

and smiled
and waved me through
the battlefield
with a brotherly wink


Repeat Track

little things like . . .
. . . how the song stuck in your head

is not there by accident

Today
All day
This old 1100s
Niedhard von Ruental tune
that I learned at Louder's

Meie, din liehter schin
May-month, your shining light

und diu kleinen vogelin
and your cute little birds

bringent vroueuden wollen schrin
are like a box of pleasure

daz si willekomen sin!
that is so welcome!

ich bin an den vroueuden min
But I myself am bummed out

mit der werlde krank
and the whole world hurts


Alle tage is min klage,
All day I am sad

von der ich daz bestte sage
that she whom I like so much

une ir holdez herze trage
and to whom my heart is dedicated

daz ich der hight wol behage
doesn't like me

von den schulden ich verzage
I'm especially downhearted

daz mire nie gelanc
because I've never been a winner