A Lion In Washington

"A Lion In Washington"
a diary about eating donkeys and elephants
by Ashley Ayres

AN EXCERPT:
Washington, DC is not just stomping grounds. It's a watering hole sinking. It's a feeding ground with scarce nutrition. You could set the trees on fire and those closest to the ground wouldn't notice. The ash could look like rain in the off-season anyhow. Hunting isn't good for those with a briefcase. They'd rather outsource it.

That's where I come in.

Well, not yet anyway.

What's black, red and white all over? It's not a riddle or a joke. I'm telling you as nicely as I can that this city is damage. It's beautifully settled and unsettling beauty, all aglow when the right holiday comes around. Otherwise, it's slow cars and faster hands. Move in, every poster says. This city is yours...technically, the government mumbles. It would take an anarchist to paint faces here, spouses whisper to one another. Ah yes, you with the prettiest eyes, America.

Black eyes, red eyes, white eyes. Soulless vs. heartless vs. gutless.

Paints an awful picture, doesn't it? Well, thank goodness that art doesn't sell as well here as it should. You have to spit at the wind overlooking the river to feel anything, something close to a kiss. Dodged a bullet, you think. Ironic for a president's stay, you laugh.

Well, I'm a character assassin with the longest smile. Want to hear a worse joke? I'm the John Wilkes Booth of spiritual killing. And I make a killing. First order of the highest order, you know.

Pay the good man and you'll never have to pray to the bad god. I play middleweight.

And I love every second of this blurry black, red and white town. No matter how I try to sell it blue.