Latterday Jesus

by Jason Kirkmeyer


Built a plane and it didn't fly too good. But the grace wasn't in there—flying isn't graceful—there's just the machine. The contours, the beauty... the impossibility of a machine pulling its weight up off of the water—from inside. A force of its own will. Its own power. See... the plane moves from within first. Its biology pulls it forward and into the air where it loses the ground and starts to fly. The guts of it make it beautiful. The guts of it make it real—make it jerk up into the air on its brand-new wings and rise up. Rise and develop.

Latterday Jesus rose up, too—ha ha! Took his guts with him and brought 'em here once—maybe. Latterday Jesus flew pretty on his brand new wings and that's what we've got to do.

The doctors call me a sick old man... hmm. Tell me that my life is slipping out from under me and I don't even know it. They tell me that this whole thing I'm into hurries it all up... Yes. Latterday Jesus hurries it up, too.

Ah... the doctors don't see it right, my people. The doctors don't see it purely and that is the shame. I'll let my nails grow long and my beard drop down onto my chest—I'll sit in a pool of my own shit... keep my urine in jars... It's genetics. It's my biology, see? Hair and blue bomber make me fly. I am grace, now from within because I keep what is me.

Water... get me a glass of water.

"You've got water, sir. It's right beside you."

That's warm now. I need cool water. Help me into my chair.


Blue bomber make me fly...

Ahhh... just my biology—just my biology pushed by a bit of... Stomach ache—broken hip—pounding head—parched tongue. I will myself to live on my own stuff. My own life and things...

"You need to eat, Howard. Have some toast."

Later. Later, now. Where's my water—Stomach... Ahh. It's time, I think.

Persist and fly. Let your guts rise up into grace. Let go the not you and fear it. Fear the not you, people. We ought to be wary of those that are not with us. I've only so much time; I've only so much money... I'm all bankrupt from the not me. I'm dying from the not me. I'm dying from the Big E... Sapping my strength. Removing a part of my whole—and that is so, so sad.

Latterday Jesus would... never approve.


Big E... Latter Day Jesus.

I made a plane out of wood and it was big as a boat and it floated like a boat, but it could fly—I made it fly. It was master of the not us. It was the king of the worlds not our own—the sky and the water. It was beautiful for that because it let me conquer... I surpassed my self. I've been outside my self and now I can see what... But the other men always want... 90 million in helicopters—tax money... me. They want me. The not me feeds on me.

Blue bomber flies in me... Big E flies in me...

My head is bleeding and that is probably... not, not good. Germ devil conquer my brain through my open head. Ahh... Germ devil—can never rise up. Never escape. Me.

I need a new syringe, for I fear this current one is frightfully inoperable. It will never do. I need a syringe to feed the not me—so that the not me will know and I won't die. Then I can sleep... soundly.

Syringe, damnit! I need a syringe.—Hmmm...

Hmmm... hmm— h m m m... Breeeathing. Yes. Breathing. I've seen some pretty girls in my day. I've loved them. They were beautiful, too. All in a dying crimson light in my arms—and needing; beautiful women coming to me, and I loved them in the dying light and I needed them there because they were a part of... they were a reflection of me. Various, narcotic and strange—women. Hmmm. Ahh—H m m m... But never so strange as breathing. This air—this air you can't hold. This air that's in a dying crimson light, too—lifeless and strange; under me and around—but never in my arms. Never needing. Never me, but always pure. The air is pure. Water is pure.

I built a plane, once—it was pure, too. It lived in the water and air. Its biology...

Goddamn! That plane sure is beautiful, isn't it.

"Which plane, Howard?"

All of 'em, I guess. But that one for sure...

"Which one? "


You never can conquer the air without strong guts and purity. They ability to keep all of yourself forever... Know who you are, people! Know who you are and be true to your guts, and keep 'em going—yes. Keep 'em all going so you can rise up into grace.

There's a point, and it's real where the body doesn't need much, anymore... When you've identified yourself and let everything else go. The quest then goes within... You gotta dig in there deep, too—to find the rest of you. And that has been so very taxing and worrisome for an old man like myself... I've been out of myself you see... H m m m... I've been the not me so I need a little—

Blue Bomber make me fly. I need the ol' B.B. so I can rest and find...

"The doctor says no more..."

Then I need a new syringe—this one is frightfully inoperable. I need a new syringe so I can feed the...

Latterday Jesus went outside himself too, so he knows what I'm talking about. He knew. He was an incarnation of the very power itself... but he had to be true to his guts. He had to take his guts with him. You can't escape the... you—it isn't natural—and belief will tell you...

I've owned things. I've built empires and watched them crumble. I've watched my work rot in its own fertility and that has been the hardest thing—because I've touched all of it. All of it has been... it—a part of me... It's hard to watch all the little pieces of you wilt away. It's hard to watch your world succumb to—; them—their families, their germs, their... they're everywhere and you can't quite place them—they know who you are and want a part of you and they take the pieces one by one until you've got nothing left—...

"Howard, you need to eat some toast. Look here, I've got you another glass of water and it's so cool."

... but your guts.

"Howard. You need to eat something. You need..."

I need a goddamn syringe—a goddamn... that's what I need.

"No more. The doctor said no more..."

And they're always out there, too... trying to get that away from you. Trying to deny you your very guts—stealing your grace. They always want to take the grace away from you, people—take it away and make it their own. Watch out for that. They'll do it—and then you won't have... any—; you'll loose everything. Your soul...

It's always the doctors, first. It's always them—and then the lawyers representing the goddamn corporate take-overs. I won't have it any more, people. I can't take it anymore—I won't testify anymore for them. They can take the pieces away—but these guts. This body—these nails—this beard—this needle... are mine. They can't take that away anymore. Except that this syringe will never do and I need another.

Latterday Jesus needed his syringe, goddamnit!

It gets hard, sometimes. To think it through with all the barbarians coming and surrounding you. Make sure that the business is taken care of and the people are good. Most of them are good and I trust them. They are worthy of my trust because they try to help me keep it—body... guts. They help me watch myself and make sure that nothing is out of order; make sure that nothing gets away and that is important. They brought me here—Mexico so that I could be closer to the things that I need to... stay—and they help me and that is why they are good, most of them. That is why I love them... except—that he;

I do not love you. You bastard! Syringe! You bastard.

Hmmm... h m m m. I've got to find a way here... that will help me to... I can find another way to be strong, here—perhaps. I need protection for—I need outside protection that can protect my... Guts. They can't have my guts, too—they can't... I need.

People, it has recently come to my attention that the ones surrounding me have not been doing a sufficient job in keeping me whole. There must, therefore be some measure that will aid me in this end. Indeed, to help me where you are not. I have, as a result, taken it upon myself to...

"Sir, I've a few documents here—do you think you have the strength to sign them?"

There are other papers to sign. I'm working... a new document.

"Other documents? Mr. Hughes, I'm not aware of any other documents?"

Policies... I've taken it upon myself to take out an insurance policy that will... for you. It will help you to...

... help me stay alive. Life... insurance.


"I don't know about any new life insurance policies, Howard. I don't... We just need you to sign some of these documents and you can go back to sleep."

Insurance. Insurance. We must get this insurance thing straightened out so that I can...

Be alive and my guts will be able to rise up—all of it, and you can keep the little bits of the not quite me. Just so long as I can have the rest. Then I'll be all right and then I'll be full of grace... but first I need some...

Blue bomber make me fly... insurance. So give me a fucking syringe!

There aren't any more... B.B.'s. Big E—no more. Just the syringe—just the needle; make me fly. And then I can... h m m m.

"Jesus, Chuck. Howard's going out of his mind here."

Insurance. Good, doctor.

"Yeah, he's been going on about his valium and codeine for the last hour or so. He won't touch any food or water. He broke another needle off in his arm and he wants some more codeine—there aren't any more around. I'm glad you got here so quick. Francom wouldn't give him any."

I never loved you.

"He's not gonna make it very long. Francom should have just given it to him."

Latterday Jesus, leapt up and brought his guts with him. Brought the bright shining star of the other side back here where things are safe and a man can live on his guts.

"I'm going to give him a couple of CCs, just to take the egde off. The least we can do is give this guy his fix...

x . x. .s...s.s.s.

Ahh... hmmm... h m m m—Latterday Jesus had his syringe and he brought his guts... And the boat for the sub... 90 million in helicopters... the Goose is me because it took me outside myself—I've flown fast and far... but I've never been free like when... Goose. Ahh... Good doctor. Keep me alive and feed what's left of me. It's my biology—see. It's what makes me whole... and; with all the air and water—deep... narcotic vision in crimson light—woman—let it go and then... Me...