Work 25 years

Life doesn’t

go anywhere

MONEY

we don’t live forever

FOOD

love while you can

ALCOHOL

get a good job

sell your soul

work 25 years

have a retirement party

go home

throw up in that

toilet you should’ve

cleaned better

(but, we don’t care much then nor will we probably remember much thereafter…)

and pass out

on that old

squeaky bed.

in the days ahead…

get sick

take medication

grow old

DIE

repeat

and get reincarnated

back

again

‘born into this’

(again, thanks Bukowski! Don’t roll in

your grave, I’m not that untalented. I’m certainly no JD Salinger, but remember when

you ripped off ‘Catcher in the rye’ by writing your knock off book

‘Ham on rye’? OK Charles my friend, I guess we’re even now… Oh, where was I? Oh yeah, anyway…)

I just want to cry

in my beer

but don’t know why

I

want to keep living

but don’t still know how

after all these years

to do so very well.

I mean, I’m still learning to live.

I have had so much practice living…

it seems I should have mastered it by now.

but, now I

want to go

somewhere

but don’t know

exactly

where…

Maybe, I need to move to Georgia

or Arizona?

Hum…

I have been almost everywhere I ever wanted to be.

but, now…

I

don’t know if I’m here

or there,

(because I am not all there… You know,

all those mental and emotional problems? You know they never quite go away. They keep lingering, don’t they? We’re never cured. Those shrinks just scoop up our money and string us along to the next visit. Hey, they got to eat, too. Oh yeah, you know all about that, don’t you? Come on, fess up…)

OK, don’t fess up.

Just go ahead and think you have all

your marbles

together…

OK, I’m strange brew,

so what!

touchy!

Oh yeah, you told me

I was saying I was gonna stay

a while

because somehow

through

all

this

I still had some faith left.

because, when I take

time to

stop

and think

for a while,

I

find out

before too long

I still care

about those

I love.

One barks,

another meows,

two more purr

and

a couple of them

even talk

just

like I do

(although, they are more

solid and stable than I. In other words,

they don’t talk as crazy as I do right here. although, sometimes they scream and shout at me. I guess I just bring out the best in them…)

In my house

I call this

breed

women.

don’t take me too

seriously…

Me- ‘Oh, bartender. Yeah, one more please…’

Me again- ‘You over there. Yeah, you. You looking at me?

Bad ass looking guy- ‘What of it’!

Chicken little- ‘Oh, nothing. Nothing at all… No sir, I’m not looking for any trouble. I didn’t know what I was saying. Yeah, I’ll shut up. Yes, I want all my teeth. Teeth are expensive. Broken bones cost more. Well, nice talking to you, I better be going now. Oh no, I don’t want to meet you outside. No, I don’t meet FAGS outside. I can’t believe I just said that. Here, bartender, give that man a round on me. Put it on my tab…’

Bartender- ‘You have no tab here…’

Me thinking- ‘ God, is everyone in this faggot place against me’!

Guy that’s going to kill me- ‘What did you just call me’?

Me- ‘Nothing. Nothing at all’.

Him- ‘That’s what I thought’.

The coward- ‘Hey, Mr. bouncer over there. That guy has it in for me for some reason. He looks pretty mean like some fag sipping on his iced tea with a mint leave out of a straw. Can you stall him for a while so I can get in my car and get the heck out of here? Hey, thanks. I’m too old to get my ass kicked… I should know by now to keep my big mouth shut. Not as young as I used to be… I’m out of here.’

Bouncer- ‘I think he heard you call him a FAG. Why the hell do you keep antagonizing that guy who’s gonna take you apart’?

Me- ‘Here’s a twenty spot. See you next time…’

Bouncer- ‘Work on your smart mouth, grandpa’.

Me- ‘F You… that just came out, sorry’.

Bouncer- ‘Can’t help you. You are on your own, fella’.

Me- ‘Can I have my twenty back’?

Bouncer- ‘What twenty’?

Me- ‘I didn’t know this was an F’ in GAY BAR’!

The guy gets out of his chair and I knew the bartender and bouncer wouldn’t have minded much if he pounded this old F_ _ K in the ground like hamburger. Anyway, I didn’t tip the bartender. I’m a cheap bastard if you ever saw one. But, I didn’t know I could move these old legs so fast out of that place and in my car and on the road narrowly missing getting killed by the mint julep sipping queer bait. Hey, I may be old but I still like to dish it out and don’t take any S_ _T off anyone. Great! What’s those red and blue flashing lights behind me? What do they call that? Karma? Bad Karma… I guess I won’t get the senior good driver rate on my insurance for a few years, that is, if I live that long…

 

 

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