Monday, June 30, 2014

5528. SHARPIE

SHARPIE
You may think I want to live all this  -  the thin
veneer of nonchalance, the eating in diners that
charge by the minute, the taxicab ride in reverse.
I get nothing back; no money, no grace. Nothing
but the old perverted sneer on some bearded
Middle Eastern guy's intrepid face. 'Driving for
fourteen days straight!', he says, in that perfectly
inimitably stupid accent. "I am very happy for you
then, sir,' I say in reply before he crashes a wall.
-
'We all die together, or we all live as one.' That's 
also what he told me before the lights went out  -  
the hospital plasma bank didn't have his number.
Fortunate for me, as well, was the finding that I
had no blood to give. Loose as a lamb on the lark
of a lemming, I ran off into the dark-foiled night.

No comments: