mr.Button

Chapter 1

The sun popped an Adderall, now we can’t sleep. Ever eye must open to the sun’s exhilaration.

The skin is chopped up into thin sheets,

Then placed in the oven on broil.

And the eyes,

The eyes, better off glazed in the sun then to witness what’s to come.

Upon a faded yellow house with brown roof tops and police buzzing around under police affairs.

“Button again Mamm.”

“mr.Button?”

“This way mamm.”

When I was a little girl I saw the world as plain. It was plain walls plain dinghy room. Don’t get me wrong aint nothn wrong with plain. IF anything plain is safe. If anything plain, makes those doll babies stay toys. Plain makes the silence in my room as I sit alone with no friends or brothers and sisters no problem, no worries. Plain makes a child realize that that mother across the hall is all you got, and all it will ever be. This plain

 “Mamm, what you thinkn?”

“Nothn. Stop calling me that it’s Edna sweetheart.”

Detective Edna’s mind is blank, perhaps not so empty, hostility she thinks,  mr.Button she thinks; this would have been the sixth case; mass body burial ground, skinned male body laid out on a clothing line.

“Over here mamm.”
She made her way over to the wooden stair case, the endless inclining curvature reminded her of a never ending what if, what if, what if, what if, maybe, a parallel universe, maybe.

“My life.” A cool whim of ambiguity.

“Yes mamm,”

“How did I get here?”
“Well, mamm.”

Poetic mr.Button. Justice mr.Button. Cryptic mr.Button.

They enter the room.

“What do you think mamm?”

Outside, the house stands under the sun. Like bees, like bees in a hive the police force scatter around the house under the sun; encapsulated by the yellow tape, yellow stripe, yellow lines.

“What makes a man become such a man?” thinks Edna.

Chapter 1

The Murderer

My my my, there was a lady fair lady I do do do say.

It was the beauty in her eyes I wish as I may.

She turned and winked I do do suppose.

It was the art in her eyes, the skullpture in her noise.

Then.

There was a man labeled I, team leader we can bet.

Who wish nothing more nothing more but to be her dear pet.

Is it me?

Bet it not that true love is in the air,

As she swings I do say she swings her hair.

A bee passes by, a bee a bee a bee, let us see,

Let us follow dee bee, as it flies in the air gracefully.

To a hive! The bee is now home, where it manufactures the honey but oh not alone. In a dancing vibration the bees are incline and then, a man comes to foster the honey now we are in a grocery line.

Where the man labeled I buys the honey in a plastic bottle cup. What is it? A bear. Papa bear just my luck.

I now pours the honey on a ladies chest, particularly this one, her skin is fair.

          Now I lay in this glass room tied to a chair; where calm liquids flow into my veins to lift me into the air.

The spectators watch me, you may watch from their room. Wait, you all don’t know my name. It is Button, mr.Button I presume.