staring blankly at the 19" tube TV
mind remonstrating with the body
don't do it
don't do it
dude, come on man,
just don't
oh shit here we go
leaping up from the plastic covered couch
stiff arming unsuspecting future aunt in law Jean
her crumbling with a gasp back into her love seat
where her overweight husband jack chokes on his carrot stick
as he tries to rise.
one smooth stroke to grab the Christmas goose
another the bottle of George Dickel southern mash
noticing the utter befuddlement on your girlfriends face
as she realizes that her prefix might change from the
expected MRS. to EX.
smacking your future brother in law Abe in the back of the head
with the Christmas goose
and laughily screaming "sucker!"
his face at first surprised from the jaunt of his melon
but the second expression,
the one you will carry with you,
was the one where he realized you were getting out
where he realized he was going solo from here on out
the one where he realized you had an escape planned and he was going to be stuck on the island.
the same expression a puppy has when being left home alone for the first time.
sorry Abe, you are a good man.
Twisting between Larry and Greg,
who react to slowly in their attempts to subdue you,
(most likely for the Dickel) you realize you might make it.
A Hiesmen like stride bursts you free from the secondary,
and into the open field
you see yourself on the jumbo-tron
nobody is close enough to catch you.
feeling flushed from the emotional release
and recent physical activity
you sense the brisk chill on your skin as a sign....
the door has been breached, you are outside. you are free (at least as a metaphor)
a kind "honey this is not working"
or an "its me not you" or even a more honest "its you not me"
would have probably been the right move.
but when is the time for that? you are always within 3 weeks of some "special occasion" a Birthday, Christmas, New years, Thanksgiving, Easter, Valentines Day....
The sparking rush and burned bridge of the
lambeau-esque departure from the entire sorted phenomenon
makes you feel like some sort of rebel nonconformist
like bob Dylan when he played an electric set to a bunch of people wanting folk music...getting booed, but booed by
souls that want no more than what they are told they want. souls who seek not their individual truths but the truths of the times of the masses.
walking to your car,
feeling the eyes from the window watching you,
sensing the frigid temperatures,
noticing the warm ooze of blood and grease from the
gooses neck as they drip from your clutched right hand,
and the warm rigid bottle of whiskey in your left.
At one moment,
the moment you get to your car,
you realize your car keys are inside with your jacket
At this moment, you understand regret,
or at a minimum poor planning.
calmly walking past your car down the street
you drop kick the goose into the ditch
take a pull from the whiskey
wipe your goosed hand on your corderoys
and try to determine the shortest walk home
22 miles you figure.
Liter bottle of Dickel still in tact.
better days ahead my friend
better days ahead.
remonstrate \rih-MAHN-strayt; REH-mun-strayt\, intransitive verb:
1. To present and urge reasons in opposition to an act, measure, or any course of proceedings -- usually used with 'with'.
transitive verb:
1. To say or plead in protest, opposition, or reproof.
1 comment:
I don't want to use that word,
On the cusp of becoming a free bird,
It is Friday so I don't care,
The rest of the week with the wind in my hair,
Another day of work would seem so absurd.
Post a Comment