Marjorie

“...Blow my love to me.”
― Ronald Everett Capps, Off Magazine Street

“Hanna started to laugh uncontrollably. "Now," Bobby told her, "say, 'I'm a dying cockroach.'"
Again Hanna stopped and rolled over. "Do what?" she asked.
"You were doing good, Girl. Don't stop. Please don't stop. Quick, get back on your back."
It was his patience with her that finally convinced her to go on with the foolishness.
"That's it. Wiggle. Wiggle. Now, say, 'I'm a dying Cockroach.'"
"I cant."
"Yes you can. Say it. Say it."
Hanna started laughing so hard she could not stop.
"I'm a dying cockroach." she managed to say.
"I'm a dying cockroach, " Bobby repeated. "Say it again. Say it over and over. I'm a dying cockroach, I'm a dying cockroach. Say it."
"I'm a dying cockroach," Hanna began.
"Keep wiggling. Wiggle. Wiggle. I'm a dying cockroach."
"I'm a dying cockroach. I'm a dying fucking cockroach!"
Bobby spent nearly half an hour putting Hanna through the exercise he had experienced in the Marine Corps. He was satisfied when finally she began to scream uncontrollably as she flailed about the floor hysterically in absolute absurdity. Tears were pouring over her face. It was then that Bobby fell over her and began to hug and hold her and kiss her cheeks. "You did it!" Girl, you did it. See?" After she came back to her senses and calmed down, Bobby explained why he put her through the ordeal. "How do you feel?" he asked her.
Hanna smiled and said. "Weird. I made a fucking fool of myself."
"Great," said Bobby. "That was the point. See, you got outside yourself. You lost your ego."
Hanna was starting to understand. "I did, didn't I? I let go. I honestly let go of everything. I didn't care. I didn't give a shit for nothing. It felt great. Shiiiitttt!" she screamed into her hands. "I'm a fucking dying cockroach. And I don't give a shit about nothing."
"Anything," Byron said from the kitchen.”
― Ronald Everett Capps, Off Magazine Street

“There is something strange about agony; the memory of it can be terribly short-lived when the contrast of revival and a pretty spring afternoon have dispelled the regrets. One drink of vodka in a cheerful glass, in the company of good poetry and the scent of blossoms and earth might entice the most well intended to forgo promise of atonement until a worse time. I have at times been just less than amazed how one drink merges with the second, where at some unknown point a mental transformation sets in. I have never been able to ascertain at what point that is--not precisely--and I have been conscious of trying to catch that moment, to try and understand it, to try and prevent it from happening, or at least have a fair chance to decide wheather or not to cross over into that other realm. Such an elusive thing, this is.”
― Ronald Everett Capps, Off Magazine Street

“People who have the ability to hear, I mean with their inner being, souls, wisdom, are the only ones who can grasp the...things that remain out of sight.”
― Ronald Everett Capps, Off Magazine Street