from Invisible Billy: The Saddest Book Ever (extended) 1

I stared like a Mother does, down upon her child with whom she had been dealt. It was as if I suckled by happenstance, not a baby but my own poetic feelings. And they were drilled into me this day. It was not an ordinary feeling I had since I am not so much of a hue. That is not my normal mood. And to my Angel-wife Kathleen, to whom my secrets are always safe, I said “I died and went to invisible.” Kathleen within me nodded, noting that and confirming she knew already and cared. She had no warm fears of worry in her as I read within me her face and her heart. Though a blend of soreness was in my fallen eyes, Kathy told me of that “eternal push” which I should do to take something out from inside the will to make something better. As a smile within her came over her, she pointed out those “grand weeds” of my spirit. And she was to me what she said she was: “a serving of pie,” and within me she had a heavenly smile. And then on her lips was no secret. She asked me, “what the water ima is going on?,” and it was by her sweetness of what she was doing there within me to remind me of those “poisoned shepherds,” I being one at war with the poison of sadness, just like those who are like me. Kathy spoke of my “pain and wrath,” and she has a head of freedom to tell me so. So she began with a free smile, to narrate to me a story of Barack Obama. Obama had once related to us saying, “Jesus Christ had a nightmare.” But now, in explanation, since I myself had jumped forward into the future, Kathy with some soreness said, “Barack Obama has died,” and that “the Tyger got him.” And she sighed and looked down, telling me, “it was hungry.” “Tygers have to eat too,” she said. Kathy knew that I had named my flashlight, “the Tyger,” “my flashlight is the Tyger,” I said. “Barack Obama’s coat was torn to shreds,” she said. “Barack was the lamb who had a soft fleece,” she, pointing outward, said, “those are his remains.” But yet she explained to me, “his soul went to Metal Settle.” So, then we prayed, “may his memory be a blessing for all of those who will know of him in a Kaddish. Amen.”