YES AND THEN WHEN
All of this wants to sound so real, it
has the bouncing energy of a child :
my life is this witness to everything
I've done. The card-carrying Communist
is eating communal bread at a long, brown
table while a few listless types sit around
complaining about something. The new-born
socialsit comes stepping in - he's black now -
and starts going on about his ideas of helping
the community. Parks and water fountains and
playgrounds. I look up and want to say to him :
'your playgrounds are festering and they breed
but drugs and sex crimes, your people are
useless cogs in an enemy machine. Screw your
head on straight you stupid ass.' But I don't.
Instead I take out my gun and shoot him in
the chest. No, not really. Neither do I shoot
myself, though that same thought had entered
here my mind. I thought I heard the padre say
'forgive me father for I have skimmed.' Oh my
God, I did! Everything is confusing me now.
-
Were I a dog would I need to learn how to howl,
or does that just come naturally? Anywhere and
anytime would be OK with me. The ladies from the
carnival are walking over : it's Fireman's Week in
this deadly town, and everybody gets slobbering
drunk to celebrate what they hope will never happen -
a five-alarmer when every fire company for three
towns around is dead drunk on its feet. 'Harry, man,
where'd you put the water?'
-
So, I'm watching them, those wives, in my own alarm -
they're kind of pretty actually, all and each in their own
sweet way. I feel like Leopold Bloom again, wondering
what those statues have on under their gowns, and vowing
someday to bow down and look up to see. Take a peek,
then take a pee. That's just how Leopold likes to be.
No comments:
Post a Comment