‘Over an Over’ by Ray Cates

so I became a child again

and soon forgot

all that was before

lusts and musts

and the world was

of mothers

theirs and mine

how far

one is allowed
to go

what there is

to know


and how to pray

the right grammar

in what to say

master the A,B,C’s

then multiplication tables

and somehow I remember somewhere

in the mix

before prom night

all of before

slips by

first love

and in your honeymoon

by the sea

you can’t help

but think

‘I’ve seen this before’

as the waves

crash the shore

but you always lived

far inland

and your wife says

“What a vivid imagination


after that

you dream

of stories

tales of ten thousand


and in time


with grandchildren

and when the

hospital doctor

is shaking his head over you

giving that grim look

you look away

and dream


the new story

and excited mothers


and her new




‘Lad Brick’ by Ray Cates

Segments for a COMING STORY, notes to myself I might use. That is when and if I write a story.

The little doctor looked nervous like a cat that was about to jump a house.  As a teacher I’ve been around people all my life and this old guy was restless.  His right hand thumb did a little twitch, up an down. When the thumb was down it squirmed on the table like trying to dig a hole to China.

I would start to say something and he would jump ahead with a new question before I had said about anything.  I got the impression that I was entering something shady, maybe criminal, but this was Daytona Beach Florida, the Con Capitol of Florida.  If you couldn’t get swindled in Daytona then your not doing any deals, or up to anything.  I have learned swindling since I’ve been here.  A bank teller put the wrong amount on my deposit slip, not in my favor.  A used car salesman sold me a car that wasn’t his to sell.  I even thought I was buying a house trailer in Port Orange, and the guy took my earnest money, but I didn’t see him ever again  The real owner didn’t even know anyone else had a key to his place.  It was not for sale.  If I ever see that guy who took my $500. I’m going to follow him somewhere an whack him.  I mean I have  a concealed carry license and I shoot safely, away from me.

Dear Editor (A letter no lawyer would let one send)

I’m writing this letter in protest.

I take pride in my yard, grass, seeds, water as allowed by ordinance, mowed always to the correct height.

But God-Damn Nelson Sloan at 423 Elm Street, he lets his dogs out daily and they come out an piss and shit on my yard.

He’s my neighbor, but not much of my neighbor!

I’ve told him, first in a very civil tone, “Keep your fucking dogs on your own lawn!” He replies with an upraised middle finger.

I finally said –after ten full years of poop, enough is enough and I let loose. I did point a shotgun at him from my doorway, stood up from my wheelchair, and let fly with both barrels over his house.

Now I sit in this little hoosecow, room while his bunch is shitting all over my property!

If I’m not home to shoot him and his dogs, well who the hell will!

Restore Pedabody The Third

a smattering of Jackism

Jack went to college with me, we had endured the draft together, we went around the world without saving the world. For him life was baseball, it was the glove of life, the game of all games, bases of achievement, batting for America, guns for the flag, George Washington curving around 3rd base for the homer.

He talked me into Stetson University in DeLand Florida, but I was from New York, and could have gone cheaper there. We knew we could count on each other. Of course Jack made the Hatter Team, he fit right in with everything baseball, but academics were lost on him. He told me in confidence, “I have never read a whole book. DON’T DARE TELL ANYBODY.” Well I couldn’t read his books, and also mine. So Jack first got Sally, then Mary by his junior year he had the best Lettice. What the girls did was read and explain to Jack. They had to take all his classes, sometimes not everything because no one knew more about baseball than Jack. He was absolutely a one sport guy. Lettice had to endure, Jack’s ball glove in his hand about all the time. Not very romantic, but Jack was good looking, rich and let girls talk more than most boys. Jack was a good listener, the girls read him Cliffs Notes, and told him the deeper meanings of the history lessons. As Jack dreamed of the major leagues he had one great girl at a time. I mean beauty queens, he never dumped them, they made the mistake of dumping him. Well he said, ‘1 down, next inning please.’

Those I called JACKISMS: Jack was full of little sayings. He talked so little everyone tended to listen when he spoke. Some of his other sayings were:

There were plenty of others, but Jack graduated from Stetson. Married his book reader, hired me into his daddy’s mattress business. I saved my money and bought a bunch of New York real estate.

Jack never made it to the Big Leagues, but he had 6 children, and to me, Lettice ad the children he is the Home Run King!

Persona a Goata – a trial pail of goats milk

Somehow  I was inside the goat,


Once I had been a man 6 feet tall three inches,

If this a goat joke?  I told cracks on monkeys, an deer on beer,

but goats might be funnyer

tee-he, tee he.


Imagine a hoofed animal, maybe I’ll get horns like a demon?

This place is big, god, it’s a barn!



pigs – none of them seem to talk!


Hard to believe,

but I can walk around

If there is a god,   he’s in the same profession as me.


I was in Doctor Boliviers office last Tuesday at 4 PM,

his last mal-practice suit, I guess for the day,


somehow didn’t make it, well now I know,

sure as a knockout punch, that lifes joke,


I would yell out, but with this mouth

I’m at a loss for words

Then I pondered as around the barn I wandered, will this horror somehow pass?


All of a sudden terror splashed and glued itself to me, blocked my racing mind,

As a human, often speeding in my Ford Pickup,

I met Marge at the Organic Chef,

Where our most gleeful delights were: GOAT, PIG AN GOAT

I never ever want to think again!

Please let me lose my mind!

I do not want to think again, until after I’m dined!



Bits about what I’m about to write -about 2.5 or I’m about to dive

Ideals first gets behind the wheel,

With ants on his legs he swats his pants,

Out of gas, or flat tires, or the crash of a boulder from Mars,

anyway, what does all that matter at this late date?

He lets out one more smelly squeal, wheels migh be coming off,


How does that feel?




Who knows what will bring about their own death?

not nearly enough rest,

climbing on top of the nest,

sex in a pine or oak tree,

or your favorite fishing chair breaks, an the complaint is your neck?  What the heck!

Oh, lets all die in rocket ships,  better still in the comic strips,

With all we know, the power and length of Googling,

We should be able to sit on the beach forever an look lewdly at girls,



Boys are flat out paper bags,


pop but seldom twang,

To get music  from them even as a kazoo,

best to introduce them to the animals in the zoo!


To eat you, even if you taste horrid,

I’d first have to cut you up,

choose knife or pen,

an before I cook,



Jobs are horrible ways to spend a life,

Forget mom an dad –use your own head,

Find your own fun,  or be quite derned, burned, left unsaid, might as well have stayed in bed!


Being born is jeepers creepers, being born is the beginning of being worn, being born is light to brighten night, being born is to get your own horn, being born is about the greatest treat, being born means all of us can meet, being born ensures the vote, being born means all of us will live over and over again.

Being aborted is murder an down below under, maybe the reason for thunder, the most horrible scheme, kills a baby who would be you, us, me, we!


People are hunters and gatherers,

Those who would rather do it and ones who would rather not,

Also there is the little snot.

Some are who mouths open, and seldom closed,


Wonderful folks who sing, dance, an draw,

We who gather fun, and those others who will have none !



Of course we could be blown up to the sky,

On airlines we could die,

The world is a construction project,  from which people could fall under rubble,

Natural causes and normal accidents seldom make much in the papers,

Buses also may be dangers, cars kill every minute,

but in airlines people line up for hours,

for quicker trips, when slow is more fun,

Terrorists can get you at ten thousand feet or in a Grayhound back seat.

It’s your treat.


You wanted to wait, but my gage was on rush.  We were that close, but like is always bits more, never are we smart enough for our very most.  We strive, sweat, bet, let, stop, dot –then we turn to toast.










Random Ideas For a Story

Lad’s Tale

Daytona Beach is right sleazy, I mean keep one hand on your wallet, an update your concealed carry license.  They took Lanis Jake out of his apartment in handcuffs and Merry Ott asked the cop, “What is he charged with officer?”  The reply was, “Suspicion of some crime, we’ll think one up soon.”  We never heard from Lanis again  Merry sent a letter to the jail and it came back ‘No Such Person’.

She asked me what to do because she was fucking him, and I said, “Get him a lawyer and have the lawyer look for him.  She did that and the lawyer went to the jail and for Merry’s $2oo. deposit, on the total fee, they told the lawyer, “There is no arrest record, he was not here.” Well that was the story when she had tired to call him. She was afraid to file a police report cause the Guys in Blue came about every day to our house to roust the prostitutes around, and Merry could be the next missing person.

Well now Lanis can’t sue the bastards for ‘Unreasonable force’, bashing in his head, an ‘false charge’ because everyone at the house knew that Lanis never left the house for anything except on Sunday. He went to the Christian Science church to pray that his nose cancer would heal and his neck brace would just melt away.

It was a Saturday when the cops came an he’d been home all week.  They probably killed Lanis.  I’m going to split his belongings with Merry.  I get the choice things because I’m bigger. The trouble is Lanis was as poor as us, and the whole contents are probably worth $600 maybe less at Beach Pawn.  The proprietor there is LeRoy and he gives about a quarter on the dollar.


The Doctor

I call him the Big Blue Pill guy and he calls me Backpack, cause I ware one with my valuables in it)  Doc gives me one pill to take and $500. per week. It’s a big blue pill with squirrely lines around it.  I know It’s a chance and the doctor is probably not a real doctor, but who cares, he gives me $500 bucks for every pill I swallow and wow, it didn’t kill me yet. I also get a Doctor Pepper Drink,  and that’s just one more thing I don’t have to buy.

The doctor is small, dressed like a doc in white clothes.  He sits in usually a Holiday Inn in Ormond Beach or some fancy condo in Wilber-by-the-Sea every week an people come in and take their pills.  At first there were this bunch of retired losers  I guess I’m one to, the college I taught at in Nashville went Chapter Nowhere, and teachers of 20 years got zilch. Well I did get $20,000. when my niece died, I got all her life insurance because her mother is a witch, really broom an all.  Claims to fly places at night, I believe her, but stay away.  She hates me for getting that money.  Well the Doc’s $500  gives me new energy, vigor, and I’m chasing women again.



Lad lives in a shamble-down apartment in the worst part of Daytona Beach.  I’m drawn to older men.  Some girls like tall or short, some like rich or poor, others smart or dumb but I like old,  like daddy.  I was always daddy’s girl until I shot him as he whacked mother, but I don’t tell Lad my father’s in the federal pen.  I actually shot the gun, but he claimed he did,  well he only got 10 years and that’s better than the Indian Reservation.  Well I’m an Indian, but their the biggest bunch of drunks I could ever imagine, I don’t want children because I would contribute to drunkenness

Well Lad or Back Pack,  Lad’s  new name,  was a professor of philosophy at a girls college in Nashville Tennessee,  an I bet the girls were crazy about cute little him.  Well he is taller than me, but he lived in a total dump  I straightened it up after I moved in, but he went to college and is doctor of something, but not tonsils, teeth or woman’s problems. It’s high in the air stuff like ‘To be or not to be’.  He looks more and more like my father.  Lad is not like the other old men I’ve tried, he acts younger.  If he gets acting much younger I’m going to find myself another old guy.

Lad’s apartment house is filled mostly with prostitutes, but Lad is popular, but he don’t want diseases.  Anyway the girls who work nights always need money, cause their handlers only give them a very little bit, an the Daytona Surf Pay-Day-Lend won’t pay out for prostitutes, but overall  their high earners.  It’s messy an I don’t want to do it, but it’s honest work, and not welfare. If they didn’t take so many drugs then they would be rolling in dough.  Lad gets $500. a week from the pill, so he loans money.  I actually give money to the girls for him.  $200. today for $400. next week (Lad trusts me with his money, not even my dad did that).

Sometimes their children are sick, or they have to send money to their mother  Even the girls who skip out of town, and needed a bus ticket send the money back.  Prostitutes are honest people.  The only honest trade in Daytona Beach!  I’m 20 and BackPack claims to be 70, but I think he’s flat out lying, he knows I love the older men, and he wants me to think him older than he is.  I think he’s at most 60. I think he lied to get Social Security early, I know he gets that check.  If he did that then maybe he isn’t a doctor either.  Well I’ve screwed plumbers, and bums and my father, brother, cousin an somebody on a dark night that didn’t let me see under his mask.  The Doctor often sounds like he went to college.  Uses words like: abrogate,  allegory, avarice.  He is teaching me words that I never heard before.  He must have been something like a teacher, maybe 6th grade where they do spelling. I just went to 5th, after that my father needed me at home.


Back-Pack Brick, formally Lad Brick

After about 6 months I was about Dr. Greech’s only patient so I asked him, “Why only me?”

“They all quit.” he said.

“So are you going to advertise in the Daytona Beach Journal and get more patients Doc.?

“No, my pill works.”

“You mean my hair is brown now?”

“That an more.  You said you feel much better now.  My pill is wonderful an someday everyone in the world will take my pill.”

“My hair is brown already how long will I take the pill?  I mean I’ll take it as long as you want, that $500 a week has turned my life around.  I am now sort of a loan company and a Red Cross because of your money.”

“You feel better because your younger.  The pill is for getting younger.  You are now 40 going on 30.  I’m on the pill now Lad.  Do I look different?”


This is an experiment an you can go on for as long as you want.  I plan to take pills till I’m 20, but you can become a teenager or less if you dare. I’ll make sure your adopted into a rich home if you go below being a teenager.   I’ll be taking notes, and since both of us will probably be around for quite a while, well I’ll keep having the pills and with compound interest on my million in the bank I will be really rich in 50 or 75 years.

I plan never to slide beneath age 20.

What happened to the 12 other old codgers?  Are they also going down in age?

They unfortunately had too many other ailments when they started my program.  We are the survivors.  I will leave the formula to the pill in a safety deposit box at Volusia Savings an Loan on Ridgewood Avenue.

If  something happens to me, and the police and prosecutors rule it ‘Natural Death’ then the officials at the bank will let you and only you open my box

One or both of us may have everlasting life.

Can you believe it we will be like Gods Back Pack.  The Gods of Florida! ”