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Fields under Snow - Paul Evans , 2024-25

British , b. 1954 -

Ink and acrylic, 61 x 57 cm.

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The Dismemberment Plan - "Ice Of Boston" (Live from 9:30 Club)

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Holy Shit, It's Cold

.

Frigid

Like a cheating ex-wife

Chilled

Like a glass of iced tea

Below zero

Like my current sex appeal

Bitter

Like my attitude towards the USA

Frosty

Like the reception I get

Arctic

Like my outlook in life

Stinging

Like waking up and still being me

Frozen

Like my heart

Cold

Like, fuck, it's cold outside

.

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Thin Lizzy - Cold Sweat

R.I.P. - John Sykes

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TAR - Cold

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The Cure - Cold

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Judas Priest - Out in the Cold

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Bob Marley & The Wailers - Coming In From The Cold

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Naked Raygun - Walk in Cold

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Lush - Leaves Me Cold

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Clutch - Gone Cold

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Husker Du - Ice Cold Ice

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Holy Shit, It's Cold

.

Frigid

Like a cheating ex-wife

Chilled

Like a glass of iced tea

Below zero

Like my current sex appeal

Bitter

Like my attitude towards the USA

Frosty

Like the reception I get

Arctic

Like my outlook in life

Stinging

Like waking up and still being me

Frozen

Like my heart

Cold

Like, fuck, it's cold outside

.

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Flat Tire

.

The waiting room at Meyer's Tires looked exactly like every other one across the country.

A wall-mounted TV is leaning just ever-so-slightly downward to the right. A game show was blaring through the muffled speaker. The host of the show looked anything but excited doing his job. In fact, his face said "just fucking kill me" while he was asking a contestant with a name tag saying "Doreen" if the price of a box of Rice-A-Roni was higher or lower than the $1.65 price listed in front of it. The crowd seemed to think it was higher, based on their yells.

The chairs in the tire shop waiting room looked like they were stolen from a doctor's office in 1974. Black vinyl cushions and chrome metal legs. I should say "cushions" and add an asterisk beside it. Sitting on one of these chairs made a person wonder if it would have been more comfortable just driving around with a flat tire for the rest of their life.

A beat up coffee table sat in front of the chairs. It looked like an alligator had gnawed at one corner. The other side looked like a 55 gallon mug of coffee had spilled on it and not ever been wiped up. Sticky. On the table were several wrinkled and well-worn looking magazines. The cover of Pigskin Parade said "What is wrong with the Browns?" (What isn't wrong with them?) The cover picture showed a Browns player fumbling the ball. Of course it did. The magazine could be new or ten years old, the Browns have been bad that long. Another magazine had a Ford Mustang sitting beside a Chevy Camaro. The title said "These Ponies Can Buck." Sure. The last magazine on the table had two unrecognizable celebrities on the cover with the headline "Star-studded Couple On The Rocks?" Oh no, stop the world, let's wait to find out.

Sitting a couple of seats to the left is a guy in pajama pants, house slippers and a stained shirt with a bald eagle on it and the word "Freedom" in a patriotic script font. He's bitching on his cell phone with who I assume is his girlfriend or wife. "Christa, god damn girl, I told you I was going to Johnny's to play xbox after I get the tire fixed. What? Why can't you pick Tommy up today? Fuck sake girl, he ain't even my kid..."

There is a pot of coffee across from the seats. Some styrofoam cups and a container of powdered creamer. The service agent is currently making a third cup for himself already. He looks miserable, but manages to squeeze out a smile as he says "we will have your car ready within the half hour buddy." He's not my buddy, but I do hope the car is ready by then.

I smile in return, because if I don't I'm going to throw one of the old magazines at the service guy and then choke the redneck beside me while yelling that I'll go pick Tommy up if he would just shut the hell up and get off the phone. So help me god I'm gonna go fuck his girlfriend if he doesn't shut.the.fuck.up.

Anyway, other than the flat tire, it's been a pretty good day.

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The Beast

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Shimmering stygian seas raise

Boiling murky shadow waves

Ascending creature breaks free

To rob the light away from me

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Rubbery skin dripping lies

Heavy burning blood red eyes

A crinkled finger points to me

Body aches to scream and flee

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Muscles tense in clenched hands

Feet dig in to make a stand

Weapon from sheath slides free

I raise the blade high before me

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Claws swipe across my face

Caustic bad memories do daze

Swinging my sword of stubborn hope

Stabbing the raging misanthrope

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Lunging with what love is left inside

Piercing the demon between the eyes

Driving the fiend back into the seas

Dropping down upon my knees

.

Haunting flashbacks ooze and bleed

Threaten to steal what's bright in me

Fighting back with a sliver of pride

For now the wounded beast will hide

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Standing back up using shards of love

Gazing at stars shining bright above

Promising myself to hold on to hope

It's the only way my mind can cope

.

Eyes stare from beneath opaque waves

Waiting to return on the next weak day

The healing foe will remain my shadow

But for now it stays confined below

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