Marasztal
Oct 2017
How like my father
to turn to religion
the first of two heirlooms
he’d left me.
His Faith,
and his Cologne.
-
Nicholas M. Coulombe
Pownal, ME
Look at all these scraps of paper.
Graphite sketchmarks
Breathing life into entire worlds
Inventory, backstory, spells per day.
You wrote these character sheets
Put the devil's weed in their pockets
Spell books on their shelves.
Their numbers clasp fingers like chain mail.
You wear it like a valiant knight.
Without your charecter sheet
You feel like an infant
covered in pots and pans.
Clanging, Banging,
Holding colander to your head
playing make believe.
This world doesn't fit you right.
You've Won wars against Kingdoms you founded.
you've fallen off the backs of behemoth gods.
you've slain incomprehensible creatures from other plains
At the end of every session you collected your experience.
said "See ya next week!"
This session doesn't end.
Can't just stop playing
Gotta keep rolling dice.
Drink the +5 energy Brown beverage.
Roll to see if your car starts.
Perception check to see if you hit that baby in the crosswalk.
Nailed it.
The roll. Not the baby.
You didn't check for traps in this relationship.
Take 15 heart damage.
Spend the next six months trying to recover.
You are noticed by a woman.
Roll initiative.
She goes first.
tells you she loves you.
You're knocked prone.
Gets an attack of opportunity on your ability to sustain relationships.
You wonder why you wandered in this coffee shop to begin with.
Make a will save.
You Leave
Double your move speed.
Burst into the town bar.
You ask for quests.
They give you whiskey.
You wake up in a strange place.
Roll me a knowledge check.
The apartment of some girl you hooked up with last night.
Your eyes part drowsy open
Unveiling a beautiful...
Man.
You did not roll very high on your knowledge check.
Roll dexterity
to gracefully get up from the bed.
Fails.
You Fall flat on your face
Roll initiative.
You run out of there
Double your move speed.
Roll another Dex check to see how much of your stuff you were able to grab.
You snag your bag but you never bothered to put your clothes on
So you're running down the street in your boxers with a black backpack.
When you finally stop to take inventory of your bag.
You can't seem to find your phone.
Spend a luck point
to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend another luck point
to reroll perception to find your phone.
Fails.
Spend your last luck point
to reroll perception to find your
Oh, thank god.
You found your phone.
Call a cab
Get out of this town.
Roll effectiveness of taking this shower.
There's no
"That was a great session guys!"
"You all get 500 experience points!"
"See you all next week."
You just keep rolling.
And Rolling.
Until one day
You roll poorly,
Encounter something way above your level.
You can run.
Find a healer.
Go home, take a full rest.
You can't just make another character sheet.
There's nobody to look at your scraps of paper,
All the characters you rerolled to be who you are now.
All the Dragons, Quests, kingdoms.
They're you.
Remember them,
Learn from them.
Keep rolling.
Poetry
Dear Future, “I’ve a Favor”
Nov 25th 2018
Dear Future,
I've a favor to ask of you.
First, I'll need to clarify some pronouns.
The following contents prefer to be identified as "favor"
This favor will also sometimes go by "letter"
for survival,
but never "prayer".
It can be a vulnerable feeling.
received as a "prayer" without asking God to watch me
constricted into his warmth like
I don't get to ask who's love I bath in.
and I was curious.
What are your pronouns?
Do you go by God
or Future
or Legacy?
I don't want to be disrespectful.
I already feel like a burden,
I know you would take me in anyway.
I tried to think about your origins
If they had anything to do with
time or if "we"
made that shit up
ask what the fuck "dark matter" is,
or
if we made that shit up
too.
I wanted to know where you
became...
I wanted to know if I get dementia,
obliterated in a nuclear light
or watch the sun turn off;
in a race between all three
what burns out first?
Do I get a vote?
I'd rather be forgotten, and remember...
than be remembered, and forget....
Poetry
INHALE
Jul 2017
The pharmacist at CVS says I am not prescribed an inhaler anymore.
so in it's place.
I prescribe myself cigarettes
I need something to inhale
cigarettes seem a logical alternative to inhalers
deliberatly I decide to not drive
to the cigar store.
i walk to the cigar store.
it is far enough to be inconvenient
which means maybe
If I am not destined to buy this cigarette
I will receive an overwhelming sensation to turn back
I always add time for potential divine intervention to my agenda.
It happens often enough to be logical
we may have different definitions of logical
the cashier asks my age
And I tell him 21.
I am 22.
somehow In the confusion of waiting for god to prescribe me an overwhelming emotional reaction to not buy cigarettes
Instead of an inhaler.
I forget a whole fucking year of my life.
this is great context for
How I trust myself when making decisions.
which is to say
I don't trust myself to make descisions.
I buy the cigarettes.
upon searching for the optimal location
to loiter and slowly kill myself.
I stumble upon the old teen center.
the first place I was a mentor.
Out the side of the building
There's this rock
Long enough to sit five or so children
two laying down.
it's Perferated like a candy bar
each rectangle curved slightly
custom fit to years of munchkin butt
this slump right here
this slump is my munchkin butt.
each break of chocolate
on the candy bar rock
has a ladyslipper growing behind it.
tips of the five purple flowers
stretch to align perfect with the tips of our childhood belly buttons
humbled, I brush the leaves
excavate delicately
this heirloom.
I had forgotten.
The sky is recovering When I lay myself on the rock.
light grey clouds that want to cry
an optimistic sun that won't let them
I Cover my face with an old journal
made of old book smell.
I smile into the pages.
my lips barely touching the silk threading of her binding.
I've never breathed so intimately
a new lover.
the tip of my nose tucked into her spine.
honeymoon phase, Intoxicating.
Still excited to be in love.
there's breath here
wisdom in the records of
loving young,
cherrishing this new book smell.
Filling your chest with it.
When memories are tangible
There are no more expiration dates
Fill my lungs with
the crisp of unturned pages,
worn leather covers
Soft silk crosstitches
Kiss air into me
from the space between your lines.
I know how intimate an untold story can be.
Today I started breathing
I fell in love With a metaphor.
I never did smoke that cigarette.
-
Nicholas M. Coulombe
Freeport, ME
