Revelations of Big Sister

If you thought you knew me, you’d be wrong

I have a heart and the taste of blood on my tongue

Now is the time to confess my crime.

While these bells are darking my head, I’ll admit. The holy men who forced me to mourn the death of my son were damn full of pious. And now, on my command, they embrace several of their severed brothers face down forever in the street.

Who knew? But at least right here in our cities, the future of hit squads is bright. We just need to drag a few judges behind us on a chain.

Look at me. There was never a sister so covered in criminal cheer. All the gang lords worship my dress and their minions bring me news of my vengeance covered in hot sauce. The last crooked cop out of town has nothing on me. Just look at the foolish company of honest perverts he keeps.

And if you thought you knew me, you’d be wrong. I have a heart and the taste of blood on my tongue. I dream of pine boxes and slippery stones. All my friends are deadly dark, and sharpen their whips and chains behind the dumpster where we were all born.

We could move to the center of the boulevard. Or saw the legs off our hope. But what good would that do? I would still be here to catch a beating. You would still pray to clocks and pay brutes like me in crime coins to clean out your dirt.

But oh… I do like it. While you roll your life a reefer and kneel before the law, I bribe the guards with flashes of flesh, take a joy ride by the surf looking for chuffs. And once in a while I kick back too, shatter my violent vows. I can’t beat up the system every damn day.

But my rests don’t last and back in the saddle, it’s time to threaten to jump. Go ahead, explain my psychotic animation with a platoon of excuses; my reckless wish still grows like rice when I mount this golden bridge to leap into that gracious Franciscan bay from this beautiful height.

Then Hey Hey Johnny says slow down, there’s no rice anymore. And if he don’t know, there’s no point in asking the governor. Still, if I only had one life to throw away, I wouldn’t be much of an outlaw.

Figure it out, folks. You need me to make yourselves presentable. I take your place behind the prison wall. I take your place to beg in the street. When you look at gods, you see what you want to be. When you look at me, you see who you truly are.

But be not troubled, children. We’ll break down later at final review. Class is dismissed for 15 minutes of famous quotes. Have yourselves another celebrity wedding.

After that, if you’re still thinking what to do about me, I say that’s because you know damn well we need a revolution around here. We need to smash some senators into smaller chunks of corruption. Because every time they look at our foreign friends they denounce them by Someism name and label each of their followers a goddamn Nounist!

Oops. Bad grammar is the new witchcraft and if you partake, it’s off to the burning stake. But what am I supposed to say? Your honesty failed you? Your seatbelt met the windshield?

Oh well, you ain’t seen nothing yet. In my next life I’ll climb from my mouth into the hollow spaces of your uncertainty. I’ll show you with grunts how I escaped from the fog, how I left my original self to fade. There was a great golden bridge there too, and I crossed it.

On the smaller side, the city of plentiful asylums shimmered, but I put my back to those types of troubles and pushed my shoes forward into the unmapped wilderness. That’s where I fill my belly with leftover wolf and my lungs with songs I must howl into the darkest edge of night.

— — —

Thanks for reading! If you’ve been hanging out here for a while, you may remember that I mentioned back in April (okay okay, more than a year ago!) that sometimes one story leads to another. This, Revelations of Big Sister, is what lead me by the ear to:

The City of Open Air Asylums

back then, but things don’t always get published in the order they are written because my publisher is sometimes dyslectic and erratic.

Again, thanks for reading Dynamic Creed. I hope you enjoyed this short piece.

All the best, Victor David.

All my stories are free but if you’d like to do a paid subscription, you’d not only be supporting me but helping veteran and animal causes. I donate 25% of all proceeds.