Marius Vega almost doesn't answer when he sees it's his cousin Brande on the caller ID. He lets it ring nine times -- once for every baseless, manipulative purpose for which the man could possibly be calling; once for each uncomfortable silence they've endured as blood bretheren, once for every poison tincture the black sheep has injected into the family tree.
Beloved Diary,
I can't sleep when I think about the future I was born into
Outsiders dressed up like Sunday morning
With no Berlin wall what the hell you gonna do
It's a new year, I'm glad to be here
It's a fresh spring, so let's sing
In 2080 I'll surely be dead
So don't look ahead, ever look ahead
It's a new year, I'm glad to be here
It's a fresh spring, so let's sing
And the moon shines bright on the water tonight
So we won't drown in the summer sound
Picket signs, letdowns, meltdown on Monday morning
But it's alright, it's alright, it's alright, it's alright
It's alright
Cause in no time, they'll be gone, I guess I'll still be standing here
So I hired a new kid, this casino punk. Not sure why -- Lang tells me he's altogether unstable, thinks he's going to have ego issues, or temper problems, but I kind of like him. Something about his face I can't put my finger on; maybe it's because he looks like a Vega.
Yeah you can have twenty-one sons
And the pain that we left at the station will stay in a jar behind us
We can pickle the pain into blue ribbon winners at county contests
Oh, Dear Paperlove Diary-Darling,
Deer die with their eyes wide open
Drawing tiny little pictures of skeletons
That's more like a television screen
And you're in a rut, and I know that you know what I mean
And then the realization hits
Dear Diary-paperheart-pal;
Feeling like roadkill
Tasting like postage stamps
And when I touch you
You fold up like an envelope
With everything I ever wrote
Pouring out of your mouth.
Sev,
It's the same master suite that has played home to the Vega heads of house for summers unending; the space has hardly changed except for the subtle effects of disuse. A little ghostlike maid, an unsettling, inhuman-looking girl in black lace, embroidered gloves, had of course tidied the space for the long-awaited return of the matriarch Luciana, but she has not been allowed in here since then. It would unsettle the mother too much.
Shin calls me around midnight to tell me something I really don't want to hear.
in your heart there's a spark that just screams
for a lover to bring
a child to your chest
that could lay as you sleep,
and love all you have left
like your boy used to be, long ago,
wrapped in sheets warm and wet.
In the months since he's been born, Lucian Augustus Vega is transforming, slowly, from a red-faced, wrinkled little alien, something shaped after the nebulous concept of infant, into something that is quite strikingly, fascinatingly, compellingly like a miniature human being.
love to be with a brother of mine,
how he'd love to find your tongue in his teeth
in a struggle to find
secret songs that you keep
wrapped in boxes so tight,
sounding only at night as you sleep.
as your mouth moves in mine, soft and sweet,
rings of flowers round your eyes
and I’ll love you for the rest of your life (when you’re ready)
Brother, see we are one and the same,
and you left with your head filled with flames
and you watched as your brains
fell out through your teeth,
push the pieces in place
make your smile sweet to see,
don’t you take this away
I’m still wanting my face on your cheek.
And when we break
we’ll wait for our miracle,
God is a place where some holy spectacle lies.
And when we break
we’ll wait for our miracle,
God is a place you will wait for the rest of your life.
Two-headed boy,
she is all you could need,
she will feed you tomatoes
and radio wire,
and retire to sheets safe and clean,
but don’t hate her when she gets up to leave.
