Netherwoods (Ch2)

Chapter II  
   
I  
   
They were ten foot poles, used    
to frame the kitty shelter in the    
bamboo, I know this because I    
cut one directly in half, attaching    
a mending plate to make fifteen  
foot beams for a greenhouse roof,    
greenhouse which is becoming    
an Earth ship.  
   
The poles, or, oak posts, came off    
pallets from a steel company.  
   
I didn’t know how I was going    
to do the roof.  
   
Perusing facebook marketplace,  
which I had just started doing,    
looking for materials I might    
repurpose, I saw the listing for    
the pallets, big ass palllets, the    
kind you never see.  
   
I couldn’t get out there for a week.  

Which would be surprising if
they were still there, people being
vultures and such.
   
When I did was crisp and cool,    
clear sky, full moon…    
   
Lotta stars.  
   
II  
   
Picking up pallets is such a    
thrill because it gives you the    
feeling of: Taking.  
   
The pictures didn’t do them    
justice.  
   
They were hefty sons of bitches.  
   
Ten feet long, made of oak,    
designed for steal.  
   
One pallet, having a mark where    
someone tried to take it apart,    
like a flesh wound on a dragon.  
   
I stepped out, legs feeling fresh    
and strong, walking along.  
   
Tried to pick one up, was a    
heavyweight on the wrestling    
team.  
   
III  
   
I  think,  to a degree, prison    
sharpened or generated a    
special, instantaneous critical    
thinking.  
   
Pretty much everyone in there    
has it.  
   
Perhaps from having to be    
able to critically analyze the    
chaos, a very anomalous    
non civilizational sort of    
chaos, if you wanted to stay    
alive.  
   
So instantly I knew what    
had to be done:  
   
Go get uncle 20.  
   
IV  
   
Uncle 20, as coined by    
a fellow I worked with    
as a youth, is a 20 lb    
sledge hammer.  
   
I thought of first learning    
to swing the thing, like    
a child soldier with an AK.  
   
A crew of cons and crooks.  
   
Once back with uncle 20,    
I gorilla’d one and laid    
it flat, taking a swing at    
one of the three oak beams    
strongly fastened to    
wood slats.  
   
Each swing had to be with    
the right momentum and    
right on the kisser.  I felt    
like Thor with his hammer.  
   
It took many swings but    
it came apart clean, the beams    
fully in tact, as well as nice    
thick slats of a higher quality    
than most pre fab wood fences.  
   
The next one, I dragged off    
the pile, one side at a time, a    
very daunting operation.  Once    
off the pile I picked it up    
sideways, standing at the middle  
hoisting the fucker up like a    
Judo foist.  
   
Laid it against the pile, standing    
upright, in order to use gravity.  
   
Only three full strength swings per    
beam necessary.  
   
Side – Middle – Side.  
   
Three ten foot oak posts in nine    
swings.    
   
Less than sixty seconds.  
   
Fuck you pallet.  I’m Cipher_O.  
   
You fucking with me – You    
fucking with the best.  
   
It was like cracking a code.  
   
Cipher: Code & Key.  
   
I took apart fifty pallets that evening.  
   
Exhaled breath an icy chill in    
the night, shirt off, frosty full moon    
breeze upon skin, ephemeral    
clouds, drifting…  
   
The door to the factory opened,  
out coming a hilo driver, looking    
at me in amazement, wanting to    
see the being who did that.  
   
I don’t think a crew of dudes    
coulda done that.  
   
Or…  
   
Known how to do it.  
   
I ended up with one hundred    
fifty posts, each of a quality    
they don’t sell, but could be    
roughly estimated to be    
worth twenty dollars per post  
would be three thousand    
dollars worth of posts.  
   
I only needed eighteen for    
the greenhouse roof, which I    
did as a lean to.    
   
A shit storm hit last fall and    
I couldn’t get the cob    
rocket stove built, thus the    
roof would be tested by a    
high volume snowstorm    
Michigan weather.  
   
It held up!  
   
Ten foot oak posts connected    
to a five foot extension with    
a mending plate which I used    
a claw hammer to connect,    
where most people use hydraulic    
press.  
   
It held up.  
   
So I have ten greenhouse roofs.  
   
Ahahahaha.  
   
V  
   
There is something so empowering    
to be able to build your own    
things.  
   
Everything is connected and now    
I am working on building a poetry    
website.  
   
In the same way as the pallets, not knowing    
how the hell that’s gonnna work,  
just knowing that I must do it.  
   
I acquired some software and hardware.  
   
Which will help tremendously to see    
my vision come to life.  
   
Just learning of the features I was getting    
ideas.  
   
I am thinking of doing a membership    
site structure, predominately free, however,  
with limited access areas.  
   
A velvet rope area.  
   
A black velvet rope.  
   
I see the image of a beautiful lady    
coming out of a shadow, wrists    
tied in black rope with index    
finger upon lips.  
   
Shhh…  
   
Behind The Rope I see maybe    
more deeper, serious explorations    
of the taboo and beyond.  
   
I was thinking each member    
could have an individual capacity    
to have limited access art.  
   
Where people could pay em    
to indulge.  
   
I, myself, plan to write far out    
stories, quirky stories, kinky    
stories,scary stories, fucked up    
stories, love stories, hood books…  
   
Also we could have online    
courses.  
   
That would be fuckin bad ass..!  
   
Like classes on stuff that there    
are no classes on….  
   
Any member from this site    
who joins, as their old username    
and avatar shall receive:  
   
The Cipheric Medal of Honor.  
   
(I can make badges..!:)))  
   
***  
Cipher  
Stories  
***