If Humphrey Bogart goes to heaven why can’t I

Matthew Kubala Illustrated by Thaddaeus Dachille 1 Written by

Copyright © 2018 Matthew Kubala and Thaddaeus Dachille

CONTENTS

5 ................ If Humphrey Bogart goes to heaven 6 ................ I wake at night and eat 8 .............. I think America is an amazing experiment 11 .............. I like scrabble 13 .............. LA 15 .............. I am subtle line and form 17 .............. One day we are free 18 .............. When I was in the third grade 21 .............. I watch the Olympics 23 .............. I saw a future 25 .............. I remember playing table hockey in the arcade 26 .............. In the silent space between the music 28 .............. We live 31 .............. It is complicated 33 .............. In Hollywood 36 .............. A corporation is by invention 38 .............. A hurricane bearing my name 41 .............. If only I had big muscles 43 .............. I remember sleeping with Emily 44 .............. Unify the world 46 .............. When I was a boy 48 .............. Uncle George 50 .............. Humphrey Bogart loves Lauren Bacall

If Humphrey Bogart goes to heaven Why can’t I Some king or Martin Luther Eating tuna fish sandwiches Cheese folded and sliced in half I read some of his 95 Thesis It was difficult reading It is certainly a reaction to the Pope And his sentiment towards indulgences Which are a very insignificant thing Celebrated with one bell One procession and one ceremony If this is true, then the gospel Which is the very greatest thing Should be preached with a hundred bells A hundred processions And a hundred ceremonies

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I wake at night and eat Oblivious I turn on the TV I watch too much Politics especially And sports But, I particularly feel distain towards reality TV It reminds me of high school Of all the cool kids I was once a cool kid The class president And a starter on the varsity football team

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I think America is an amazing experiment

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I like scrabble central to my being important to who I am

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Massively huge billboard A giant friend

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I am subtle line and form My mind is a prism My name is written in the sand Soda gives me heart burn But, I continue to drink the stuff

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One day we are free The next we are lost It is a roundabout Like how my mom went to a religious retreat And got sick on the second day It gave her a fever Good that Aunt Pat was there

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When I was in the third grade I made a bet With a friend Jason Morgan He picked the Cowboys and I the Steelers I won three dollars

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I watch the Olympics I like the ping pong I like the pole vault America wins More than anyone else In the entire world Big fat America in excess A world celebration A national anthem Ads Some stick in my memory For a car For a soda If they only cost the same

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I saw a future in which people would pass Through portals And spend seven days in paradise On a tropical island And return an instant later

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I remember playing table hockey in the arcade Pole Position, Pac Man, Tempest, Joust, Q-Bert, Donkey Kong and Red Baron Racing between machines Asking mom for more quarters

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In the silent space between the music And my ear My cat chews on my only plant Tearing off a leaf Spoils of his exploration in this room I have the walls covered with pictures Of family Famous people More than two hundred framed pictures Paintings Albert Einstein, Mozart, Pope John Paul II, John Lennon, my mom, my brothers, my sister Don’t ruin it The radio leads me along “Maybe I just want to fall asleep” Speak simply Play the notes I ride their coat tales They make me small They help me live Muhammad Ali William Shakespeare Marlon Brando And Arnold Schwarzenegger Who made his first million in real estate I am fascinated with Body Building The art of the human body The sculpted form The line The strength

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We live in a commercialized Bureaucratic nightmare Step up to the plate

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So complete is its hold on suspicion And uncertainty Sprawling over all I see Even during frustrated atomic flight above Dirty city streets Face red flight incredible burn confused Speed All is poisoned by fear Seemingly seeping as an inhuman creature Leaning out Compressing walls even as they appear to be In perfect geometry Dark as night with clear sight All directions in existence A quantity that does not move in shape Thought Certainly flocculating The flux in mind attempting to classify Emanation and reality I am asleep This is a dream Thus realized and set as the reality under Consideration

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I go about relieving the pressure of the event Screams again An animal machine for sound I am not afraid of the screams It is medium in which they travel that I fear I wait on the truth Painfully trying thoughts of no shape As remedies, against the air although I take Note of breathing Dark as night with clear sight Blending with a sense of The time span is immense the shifts in Location are flawless in themselves causing No suspicious or distemper I realize vast amounts of time The dream holds a universe in sight A void which is full beyond capacity I am using all thought to understand the Maddening pulse I formulate postulations in the after The morning I have returned to All directions in existence A quantity that does not move in shape Though certainly flocculating I am asleep This is a dream

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Thus realized Under consideration I go about relieving The pressure of the event I am unable to dissuade the force More rooms No one is following me No other presence is sensed No cars on the streets Palm tree lined Again I ignite to fly Fear does not follow It has been an unchangeable constant Assimilating itself throughout Absolute zero in mind An equation bound by nothing I can feel hostility in my hands arms legs I can see the equation in walls In doorways In sounds forced to be alive by the quantity No question of life or death No desire to run or hide Even in flight and fusion energy I am empty Of power I am only able to experience the equation Again I recognize this as dreamscape I do not try to wake

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Food for thought: A corporation is by invention your friend It is the paradigm long developed Peasants have always been peasants Some escape Many more stand in the middle Most fall in line Or fall through the cracks

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A hurricane bearing my name works its way Up the coast It is a symbol of all the past chances Evacuate Run for your lives Board up your windows and get out of town Go to England I hear that it rains quite often there But no hurricanes I feel bad for Haiti They are the poorest country in the word And every five years a hurricane comes and Tears it a apart Why don’t they move?

Why doesn’t anyone move?

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If only I had big muscles Posing in the mirror Sculpting my body Oiling for competitions Living the art of body building Winning trophies

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I remember sleeping with Emily In her bedroom Warm under the covers While her parents were away One night the moon was purple We curled together I miss her She was empathetic and suffered my moods The next morning she made breakfast without Her shirt on

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Unify the world Win one for the home team Hit a home run It isn’t a game Twice have I been told how serious The situation is Once by a friend Who wanted to help me We smoked his weed Seeking the gospel plow The other time I encountered A wicked temptress vampire Who wanted, for better or worse, to ruin me “Destroy him” she shouted in public And so they shouted too She almost succeeded Twisting my mind Leading my troubled soul To curl around itself In its darkness On a side street in the city

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When I was a boy I had a recurring dream I was standing on a field of infinite spheres

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Uncle George is 87 He yells at his dog And moves slowly He still smokes But, I now have his bowling ball

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Humphrey Bogart loves Lauren Bacall On tv I change the channel A truck drives in the tundra An avalanche A bear and an Alaskan lake A college football game A commercial for laundry detergent A cooking show They sell chocolates Let’s start with fudge So soft, creamy, and decadent

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