In the Downtown at 3 a.m.

Rain lashing and
The happenstance of fear
It is dancing behind the headlights
And echoing in the distant, unseen footsteps
Reflected off the chain-link fencing that
Binds our pleasure also
Along with the dread of our resolute
Lack of hope and faith
Pleasure through fear
Flickering in the general vicinity
Of our dry and wanting eyes
The hissing of neon
In the dark rain
Rain ever lashing while the steam and fog beguile
This cement floored morass
Fear through pleasure and the wet slow drip
A slow moan and another slumped figure decorating
A blind alley
The moans of pleasure or pain are
Indeterminate
No one stopping either way
Cars screeching
As rain lashes down
In the downtown
At 3 a.m.

By: Daniel Smallegange

Song Fragment

Give me a piece of your love today
Give me something strong to hold
Give me a piece of your love today
I'm cold, I'm cold, I'm cold.

This is a fragment from the first lyrics I ever wrote. By:Dan Smallegange

As We Greet the Dawn

Grizzled youth and
Green with jade
Lines of pain
And hearts unmade
Shouts of mirth
To kiss the dawn
Shouts of lust
Wiped tears forlorn
Gimme fear and gimme death
Gimme your soul, your witch's breath
I sleep I sigh and dance and fall
I grab my place as finger's trawl
Your so white flesh, my sweet desire
Your long frayed dress, your sweet attire
Unvanquished eyes, you pierce me quick
Grizzled youth and laughter's born
Green with jade and flecks of Myrrh
Dagger hilt thick with pearl
Laugh with me and slight me not
I want your heart and seek your touch
Cheers and roars and glass raised high
Grizzled youth with jaded try
Alone in the corner and sing with me
We'll watch them pour us
A whiskey tree
We'll fight our way out
We'll run with the moon
Hand in hand and none too soon
Gimme fear and gimme death
Gimme love, your deep caress
As we run
As we long
As we greet the risen dawn

By: Daniel Smallegange

The Light

The light is bright, bright
Too bright
It revels and reveals all our
Secrets, all our
Scarring and the lines
Carved by stress and tears and
Happiness
It blinds too, this light
Prevents truths from occupying
The lands of our hope and dreams
Bright shining bright
Lighting up our faults and flaws
Portraying both demons and angels
Equal and unflattering
Bright light
Demonstrating our beauty
Our lies and our love
Too bright
How it warms and feeds
Brings us to our knees
Ever bright this light
Cleanses us of need
Feeds us deep with greed
Give us shadows though
Give us cessation
This light is bright, bright
Bring us some respite
Bring the peace of night
For the light
Is so very bright

By: Daniel Smallegange

There is Midnight in Your Eyes

There is midnight
In your eyes
It catches my thoughts
Like an insect caught
In amber
Like a seal set deep
In wax
Casting a net so wide
The only possible escape
Involves blindness
Eyes abundant with midnight
All conquering beauty
Heartbreaking design
Which leaves nothing behind
But windswept trails
Of longing laced with dust
Eyes spilling moonlight
Trailing laughter and memories
Such passion and bliss
Corrosive and catching
Silver fire
They imprison my heart
These dauntless orbs
Like a tyrant
Like a thief you steal
All my desire
And embrace my need
Like water does flame
The hiss of your razorblade kiss
Is missed
Desultory signals
Fire flowers at midnight
Hidden in the periphery
Of your waning, forbidden eyes
Dripping dense
Haunting and ever present
The moonlight
In your eyes

By: Daniel Smallegange

Dream for Someone to Analyze

Dream.

I am in a battle, on a battlefield in a forested area somewhere in Eastern Europe. I am in combat gear, along with a group of other soldiers. I have an assault weapon, grenades. Suddenly, we are attacked and pinned down. We all scramble for cover. Bullets ricochet around me, and I know I have to move, to run, to seek better shelter. I am scared, start shooting, provide cover for my mates to move, and then run for it. I almost get hit by several bullets as they spray all around me, but manage to find shelter. We lay down some serious fire, and advance. I run through the brush and up a slope on the flank. In this new position I can see that the enemy are starting to retreat. They are completely open to my attack, about five of them. I rake them with gunfire, seriously lay into them, but it is as if I am firing blanks. None of them are hit. I can't believe this as they should all be dead. I fire another and another burst at them. They are completely unprotected, should all be dead, but are untouched. I can't believe this. They start returning fire, and I dive down. Bullets are hitting all around me, but I am safe. I throw down my now useless weapon in disgust, and look for a grenade on one of my belts, but have trouble finding one.

Now I am a third person, another member of my squad looking at me, watching as I am pinned down. He (I) can see my helmet is sticking up a little over the ridge. He shouts and tries to warn me to get lower, to get down, but I can't hear, am too interested in tracking down one of the illusive grenades I know I have on me. He (I) see the leader of the opposition across the way, an older man, with a cigar and a shaved head with white beard. He (I) can see he sees my protruding helmet. He (I) sees him take aim with a really long sniper rifle, screams 'Get down!'.

This time I hear it, turn and look at him, but it's too late. I hear a shot and a crack. My helmet is hit, and I fall back. I know I am hit, but wonder if the round hit just my helmet, or if it hit my head. I feel no pain. I wonder if I am dying. I feel wet coming down my cheek, and wonder if maybe it's just a nick, then a chunk of something falls down my face. I realize I am fucked.

Wake up gasping.

The End.

They say if you dream you die you die. Well, I better watch out for myself today!

Malbec and the Boy Racer Over Drinks Talk Toronto Tales (rated R) by: Daniel Smallegange

Tequila. We revel. What we do is revel as the sun sets over the desert scene. Time moves on and the moon visits and the bottles drain away. Someone comes and collects the drunk on the sand pile, takes him home, bloodied but singing some Spanish song and all is right with the world.

'The pursuit of pointless pride, that is what this year is about.' ~ Whisky downed.

'The pursuit of… Yes sir, Bob, yes, sir.' ~ slurred.

'And we're back and we’re gonna fuck like the proverbial phoenix' ~ Tequila shot, salt, lemon wedge. 'Me an' the Boy Racer, yar.'

'Like a fuck phoenix?' ~ Wine and beer and drag of Lucky.

'Yes Bob, like a fucking fucked up fuck phoenix. Don't you no listen?' ~Whisky sipped, tequila shot, salt, lemon wedge.

Glasses chink, Felix coughs dryly, and examines his fingernails.

'If my friend, no one wanted to sleep with you last year, what makes you think you can sleep with anyone this year?'

'It's not that no one wanted to sleep with me last year Felix, you pretty, vexatious man, it's that no one did sleep with me. There's a difference. There is a total difference in logic, see?'

'Yeah Felix. He logiced you good, the Racer hath wit.'

They slap hands together Malbec and the Boy. I wink and Felix rolls his eyes. Much cheers, laughter, salutation and someone almost falls over, only to correct himself and pop a pill down his throat.

'C'est bien. Encore un fois!' ~ Malbec grinning, raises his glass and another toast and another one of us all but falls over, saved in the end by the outstretched and large hand of the Boy Racer.

'…And where the fuck did you learn French. I didn't know you knew French.'

'I know all things... my friends, all!'

'Felix, he's fucking French! Jesus, what do you think his accent is? What you think Malbec is? It's a fucking French name.'

'Alright Bob, calm down. I thought it was Russian or Canadian or something, you smiley faced, evil bastard fuck.'

'You know it. I am so yes, and undisputed.'



Moving off for a slash and a pick me up bump. Looking into the mirror see I look sunburned and tired, so, so tired. Our smile is mean looking. No matter how hard we try our smile comes out evil, unpleasant. There is no helping it, but to do another bump and back enter the fray.

In mid story, as told by Malbec with notes from the Boy Racer, as I stumble, as I attempt to be seated and then as finally I am so.

'Baobab in Toronto. You remember Baobab, Felix? Tall fucker, stringy hair, played guitar real good?'

'Bob's back. Hey, Bob, you remember Bao yes? Hey, careful there Bob. Okay, Bob. Okay, get your white ass in there.'

'He says it is fucking cold there and he's never going back.'

'Where?'

'Toronto.'

'Who the fuck cares about Toronto?'

'No, listen, there's a story?'

'About Baobab? That guy owes me money.'

'Would ya shut up Bob, and let them tell the story.'

'Fine Felix, fine. Wine. I want some fucking wine.'

'There was an incident.'

'In Toronto, Canada, where it's fucking freezing cold and ice all over and fucking snow piled over your heads, yeah, we get it, get to the bleeding point please and thank you, and' ~ leaning back, shouting ~ 'Another Caesar, Marianna please!'

'He had this hot piece of Canadian real estate to visit.'

'Who?'

'Shut up Bob. Here drink this.' ~ pouring some wine into a tumbler with ice.

'Ice? Okay, okie, tell the tale. I am … all fucking ears boys.'

'Bob. Fuck, someone prop Bob up. Jesus.'



'So, Baobab, who is always a ladies man, and he has this hot number up north, I mean, to die for hot, and so goes for a visit. She meets him at the airport. There's a limo, her tongue in his ear the whole way, everything is frigging awesome.'

'So?'

'Well, he is back at her condo, they are engaged, err, in coitus, in errr, mid thrust, when her husband comes barging in, who is this fucking massive Russian gangster type, scarier than the devil himself.'

'Scarier than God on motherfucking judgment day.'

'Would you quit interrupting? Anyways, Bao, terrified for his life, and it's the dead of winter by the way, like with snow and ice all over the place.'

'So, naked, he hoists himself out a window and falls like ten feet. He lands onto the ground, which is ice…'

'…And he's all slick and wet down there with her, uhhhm…'

'…Her vaginal juices Malbec. Don't be crude…'

'But I didn't… Anyways, her vaginal juices. So, when he falls onto the ice his cock spot welds, spot freezes, himself to the ground.'

'Baobao is frozen by his fucking cock to the ice and can't get up.'

'He is spread eagled on the ice, naked, and on his toes and bent double with his head down, trying like a bastard to blow warm air down there, to try and thaw his fucking penis free.'

'Then he hears the fucking Russian at the widow, shouting down at him waving a gun, shouting who the fuck knows what in Russian, but he's furious.'

'So he does what he has got to do.'

'He rips himself free leaving a good portion of foreskin froze to the ice.'

We are falling over with the laughter, and ohs and awes.

'No way. You made this up.'

'And he gets up and sees there's been this couple watching him all along, watching this naked guy stuck to the ice.'

'He turns and says to them.'

'No. What does he say?'

'He says, all calm and cool and holding his bleeding dick in his hand: "What you fucking looking at, ain't you ever seen a self circumcision assholes?"

'No way. You lie,'

'Ask him when you see him. God's honest truth. Fuck, he'll even show you. He's half circumcised now, swear it.

'Bullshit.'

'So then what happened?'

'I dunno, he steals the motherfucker laughed at him's clothes and fucking books it.'
..............

This is from chapter 4 of my manuscript 'Lost in the Maelstrom', copyright Daniel Smallegange 2009, all rights reserved.
Next: Mexican Holiday... If anyone is interested in hearing more ,that is.

By: Daniel Smallegange