Then I spent forty-eight hours in jail instead of at my momma’s house and finally Uncle Teague came to get me and we rode all the way home in his truck and he did not say a word until a mile from my house and then he said:

“So now you know.”

And I said:

“Yes sir.”

Teague is a Scottish name it means poet and that was the only poem he ever said to me.

—

In the arcade on the Ahornweg the air hockey goes zip zap clack and it’s sort of another poem I guess if you are inclined to the metaphysical it is a synesthetic poem about details and the world unfolding and exploding in your head and coming back exactly the same like the finger because Hans Eiger did not smell of rose water and nor does Evil Hansel. Not rose water and not chocolate and not air fresheners.

They have been in a room with Mrs. Van der Zee and her nasty signature perfume and that changes everything because in crime there are no coincidences.

So now it turns out there are things I have to do.

—

I sit in front of a computer and I lie to Charlie.

“Hey boss whatcha doin’?”

“I am looking at the golfs Charlie.”

“Golf what?”

“I like the golfs they are happening in Dubai they have made a whole golf in the desert out of I do not know I assume space science and I am watching on the interwebs come watch too!”

“Uh no thank you boss I am robbing a bank over here with Doc.”

“O good of course sorry my bad.”

I am not watching the golfs I am murderizing people in futurity. The sort of murderizing this requires is not improvisational it is process-driven it is downstream complexity made simple by stages. Of course it helps that I had planned to do some serious murderizing and so I was already preparing for it infrastructurally speaking but still. But that is my modus: you break it into manageable tasks and you make sure that you assign—

Yeah.