Posted in Almost Dorothy

Prosecution of a Black Hole

I haven’t been able to post in awhile because ma was in jail. She got arrested for prosecution. She was impersonating a traffic lawyer at the Miami Dade County — Clerk of Courts. Ma didn’t think it would be a big deal. She never thinks anything is a big deal. Even when the sign at Wal-Mart says “Big Deal”, it’s never a big deal for ma. “It’s not that big of a fucking deal,” she always says. “If that Wal-Mart shit were free, always, then that would be a ‘Big Deal.'” The cops said she’d go to jail for good if she doesn’t chill out.

I don’t know if ma can resist the temptation to break wind again.

Anyway, I had to work double time at the make-shift booze store behind the Boulevard, the strip joint/live porn venue just across the street from our landlord’s idea of an apartment. Needles-to-say, I got ma out of jail even though it cost me time. But I’m writing now, (un)fortunately.

Ma says she wants to become a lawyer. “A real lawyer,” she says. “The kind of lawyer with over $150,000 in school related debate and a white Mercedes Benz, and a bad attitude.”

I tell her it’s debt, not debate. She says, “I’ll debate your ass right now if you want.” But I don’t want.

I think ma would make a good lawyer because she knows how to wiggle her way out of almost any hole. The only hole she can’t seem to get out of is the black hole she’s created for us which is not unlike the black hole that just shredded a star like ropa vieja, sending a burst of radiation streaking towards Earth (BBC News).

Ma is like that insane burst of light hurtling toward Earth. She is bright, almost brilliant, and streaks through my life like a radioactive cosmonaut. But that luminous, intense light emerges from the blackest black known to no man or woman. It’s the same black that can swallow all the stars and moons and all the known twilights in the universe in one galactic Big Gulp.


I'm not real, but I'm a writer.

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