Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Follow Your Nose? Do I look like Toucan Sam? And I intend to be a man of leisure, not some random mouth breather. So, I write books? Nope! All the huffing and puffing I do. Women, work, worrying about the house’s mildew scent. “They’ll B Air Virgil.”

Tuesday, December 12, 2023,

Tale 164 ~They’ll B Air Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… Even when we’re on the beach. And I’m still here typing away—my favorite dream.

Sigh… Is that of relief? Regret? Or do I want to rant? It’s a relief that I no longer have the old Day Job. That same breath I used to call out to Braxton whenever I returned. “Just me, Baby B, I would say.” I’ve been holding it lately, but not because of you or Virgil. Baby Doll, it’s been hard. I keep saying that I know. It’s been 1045 days and counting. And I still can’t describe Braxton’s scent when he cuddled beside me. I miss it like crazy. Now there’s only mold and mildew, and I need to spend a lot more money on diapers… Or teach Virgil that he has to go outside for a reason. I’m glad I’m better at business.

Open mouth and insert foot, right? I’ve never been one for talking love. My personality. Cult of Personality. I’ll sing all day long. I’ve even found myself singing to Virgil from time to time. And then there’s playing with our kids, teaching, reading before bedtime. And what do we do after the children are put to bed… Sometimes, “It Seems Like You’re Ready.” Uh, all of the time because… well… You want to know that I’m still breathing. Or at least it seems like I want to. I have your love and the memory of my firstborn son, my love. I have things to keep me breathing. That’s not the question. It’s going about it. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not that simple, Baby Girl.

This is probably why I do my best Jay Sherman impression and become the most critical critic of my existence. It stinks. I so need to learn to shut up. Don’t waste my breath. Ha! But I won’t turn to cigarettes or, as Todd would say, the “Devil’s Lettuce.” And while I’m on the subject of Eric Vall’s characters. There’s Grayson Price and his thing for vanilla perfume. Your scent can be intoxicating, my dear. Only I should go out and buy some air fresheners for the house, with all the trouble. The smell of cash. “Dollar, dollar bill, y’all.”

I need to take a deep breath and be thankful for it. I’m always trying, my love. Breathing’s the hardest thing? They’ll B Air Virgil?

1045 Days Without B III, Day 486 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

I’ve never been blessed with growing things. Well, weeds… the fence is falling, so I had to cut the grass. There was/is Braxton. B’s been fifteen for a couple of years. Mold? Yeah, from the flooding house. Uh, Virgil Vivi? Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

Tuesday, December 5, 2023

Tale 157 ~Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right… more and more each day. How Your beauty grows with each new day, my love.

I hope I don’t sound shallow, but I mean it. The children you… uh, we have brought into this world. You know how people are these days. But I feel I had a hand in it with “pouring the Bisquick.” I was talking to someone about that yesterday. Madam Justice. Love, you grow during this time of year. Uh, the holidays? My love, I do mean lovelier as you put the ornaments up. And you help our kids with them. All the lights on our trees. And am I going to make you put the lights up alone? I’m not that kind of husband, ha. “You’re my angel.” But I’m not ready to see you in Heaven. Promised you Heaven but put you through Hell…

Yes, my love, you could tell where I was going with this. Can you believe I’ve kept Braxton Barks out of this until now? I go back to when I would tell him as Caesar told his son Cornelius. One day, you will be as tall as a king. He was looking down at me every morning. I lived to serve. As his father, my love for him gave me the strength “To Be A Man.” I’ve been thinking a lot about that, with everything happening these days, my love. I remember my Ma telling me I could sit on my behind with unconditional love. “Unconditional love’s for women, children, and dogs.” And I’m approaching forty. I hate saying thirty-nine. But to be forty, love?

Virgil is only three. Braxton was/is fifteen. I have all our children to watch grow up into good people. I know I’ve been all about the music today. Um, Monday, December 4, 2023, because businesses won’t run themselves… And how I grew this one. Well, you can ask Madam Justice. Anyway, regarding our children, ahem, “I hope they’re not like me. I hope they understand.” Because their Daddy never grew up. I am trying, my love, every single day. Oh, you know I can grow big enough for you… I’m trying to be funny now. I swear, love. I can grow mold. The house flooded. I grow impatient with Virgil. And all that I fear. The son I still mourn. Rise! Virgil’s Growing Up Braxton

1038 Days Without B III, Day 479 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 020 ~Will Is Sky High~

I’m not going to make a good husband overnight, hell I’m not even much of a good man, more like a frat boy, or a kid that’s had the house to himself for a few years. So how am I ever going to get some angel? Will Is Sky High.

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

Gospel 020 ~Will Is Sky High~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I can promise you it won’t be for dancing. Let me go ahead and tell you, I’ll never stop using song lyrics daily. Who knows, you might get me on the dancefloor someday. For now, though, as the song goes, So if I hold you in my arms, I won’t dance. What can I say, baby girl? I still quite enjoy our Saturday morning listening sessions in bed. Only the thing I want to talk about is getting up and about and during the plague era, well easier than done?

For example, as I began, I am a billionaire, and so are you. I’ve said this before, but I’ll stop buying the cheapest sneakers that get soaked in the grass every morning. You know when I’m walking the kid. The fanciest shoes I own, I bought for my best HUMAN friend’s wedding. I’ll also remember what pants size I wear. Not trying to sound like a little boy, but I go to work, the store, and hopefully the movies. When I win an AEE award, I’ll still be wearing a pair of jeans. Now how did I dress on our wedding day? Okay, before I go all pop culture geek. I’m still going to get lost in books, both writing, and reading. I have plenty of games on my phone, and I do get distracted. Well, I did do five thousand words today for Camp NaNoWriMo, so that is something.

Speaking of which, I’ll start buying more shirts that aren’t branded with NaNoWriMo. Yes, I’m pretty proud of being a part of that. I buy you plenty of stuff, but you’re so beautiful I can’t help myself, and it could be worse… shoes (shudders). I want to have control of my health for you and the kids. I swear I’ve been meaning to see a dentist. Did I mention how much I like masks? Not funny, yeah, because I want to see some zombies. Lastly, I want to be able to tell you things, to speak out loud. People find my writing confusing, but my silence every day, for some reason, is scary. You’re not scared, are you, My Love? I’m not comparing you to a summer’s day exactly, but as I say, I love my little boy like pancakes. I love you like Star Wars. Will Is Sky High.

I Will Have No Fear

Looking Dim

A month or so before a bad day, I know bad days are coming and I didn’t really want to say it back then or now; let’s just say it was like graduating high school, had nothing to do with me. Looking Dim, because the future wasn’t all that bright.

Aging in the black
Yet the light grows brighter
For life, I have no knack
My heart grew no lighter
The deck is stacked

So blow them out
So many candles
No name now
My vandals

A moment eyes closed
But their lips are wide
Think I don’t know
Teeth, fangs, and knives
I hope they choke

So knock them out
Feast of flesh
Smacking so loud
Why aren’t I dead yet

The dark sky
Shows all its victims
And who am I
But a cell in the system
No goodbye

So don’t look up
Can’t help but feel envy
I was never enough
Abomination, God murder me

Would you take my picture?
Make me famous
These vultures much richer
How I hope it’s painless
Suicide’s the pitcher

So don’t be in pictures
But the world will know
Maybe an itchy trigger finger
On with the show

Smoke and fire
Beats breathing
This light my desire
I should be leaving
Still, I won’t be admired

So don’t die
Rage, rage
Against the dying of the light
That you made

As you closed your eyes
The Abomination
Yet you wonder why
I chose such a sin
Finally in the light
That’s looking dim

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.