It was me that wanted to be the best, not someone else's vision.
I just heard a poet, on the Poetry Show, say that a grade school teacher saved its life by giving it a library pass. This rascal would race to the Webster's and look up vagina and the Peloponnesian Wars. Wow and double wow. What pissed me off formativly, and belated my bed wetting career through junior high, was two jerks that loomed over the stall, while I relieved myself. When I was done, they announced themselves with applause. Some potty training, huh?
I am now here alone in bed with you.
I just heard a poet, on the Poetry Show, say that a grade school teacher saved its life by giving it a library pass. This rascal would race to the Webster's and look up vagina and the Peloponnesian Wars. Wow and double wow. What pissed me off formativly, and belated my bed wetting career through junior high, was two jerks that loomed over the stall, while I relieved myself. When I was done, they announced themselves with applause. Some potty training, huh?
I am now here alone in bed with you.
There is some sense in everything, isn't there? It's kinda like, we just don't get it, can't put it all together? Right? But someone is, or thing. The lost butterfly? Japanese...New Delhi children? And building chicken coops in Uganda? Isn't it? Or aren't they working on it right now? I just need to know for sure. Please wake me if I'm fast asleep, and jostle me, so I may hold my ears funnel to the echoing truth.
As my Mother reads to me, it's helping me to let go. No, that's crap. I'm doing it on purpose. I'm frightened and scared shitless if its not right in front of me. I need it to be alive forever. Honest. I want it to teach me how to write, so that its friend will be mine forever.
Holy crap, you scared me. How long have you been standing there? Well don't just stare. Talk. Ask me something. Okay, that's better. Huh, yeah, you know I'm not sure I'm ready to get on stage right now. It would parallel segments of my personal life because it's a love story and I even get to kiss the girl. But I'm also getting some joy outta writing and now talking to you. Expand? Okay. I'm developing a great kinship in this keyboard and web connection. I love corresponding with friends, one in particular and I think it knows who I mean. Ooh, la, la. Huh? Yes, I know some too, but not in this case. It's the peculiar instance of particulars. It also helps me with my typing skills. You know, I'm planning a sit down job for retirement?
Okay. Let me ask you one. Why did you come? I mean around tonight? What do you want? But isn't that the same thing? Well, if that was true then we'd be great friends by now. But I hardly think you would last and stick around til the end? And besides you're my opposite. What? Well that's true isn't it. I'm on the hunt for a life mate that is playful of mind, but doesn't create too much drama for me. Sips green tea while I guzzle my coffee and we sit together in silence for hours and hours just loving each other. Yeah, I also want it to look right through me, picking gently at the lies in my back pocket. One by one. Opening. Reading them. Refolding them in half. And then putting them back in a slightly different order. All done with a lover's expeditious prestidigitation. I don't know. Why do you always balk at my specifics? I'm not asking too much. Of course it doesn't have to be perfect,
just brilliant.
Okay. Let me ask you one. Why did you come? I mean around tonight? What do you want? But isn't that the same thing? Well, if that was true then we'd be great friends by now. But I hardly think you would last and stick around til the end? And besides you're my opposite. What? Well that's true isn't it. I'm on the hunt for a life mate that is playful of mind, but doesn't create too much drama for me. Sips green tea while I guzzle my coffee and we sit together in silence for hours and hours just loving each other. Yeah, I also want it to look right through me, picking gently at the lies in my back pocket. One by one. Opening. Reading them. Refolding them in half. And then putting them back in a slightly different order. All done with a lover's expeditious prestidigitation. I don't know. Why do you always balk at my specifics? I'm not asking too much. Of course it doesn't have to be perfect,
just brilliant.
Well, I've had about enough of you too. Goodby. It's getting late and I've got a date tomorrow with a dog and a spot on woman friend.
The same to you too, Bucko.
The same to you too, Bucko.
© Donald Grube, 2010
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