I finally gave in
and put on the mask
and went strolling
through the aisles
Me!
the one who always
colored outside the lines
only to find
I felt a strange sense
of belonging
to be
just another
Chinese wannabe
(all you see
are my beady little eyes)
and when I walk by
people turn their heads
and exclaim
Who was that masked man?
(Tonto is roaming around
here someplace
shopping for a new
rainbow colored headband)
and I understand
it's not so much
for my own protection
as it is for theirs
and I find it ironic
as hell
and a big grin
splashes across my face
to think that society
only just now
has thought of a way
to protect itself
from me
I'll drive down the street
and see peeps walking along
from the back
I can't see their faces
just their shape and
male or female
though that's not always
easy to discern
and the game I play
is if I could
would I trade places
with this person?
I have to decide before
I pass them by
no fair looking
at their faces
split-second decision
(leap of faith based
upon incomplete information--
so familiar to me)
and I surprise myself at
how many times I say no
I'm not switching
even though I often see
it's someone younger
likely in better health
and better shape
prolly with everything
going for them
and I surprise myself
at how often
I would still choose to be me
guess it's the old devil
that you know
is better than the one
you don't know
and I'm nothing
if not an old devil
with a lot
of really hot
memories
3 a.m.
and the road out here
is quiet as the moon
normally some solitary soul
would be puttering by even
at this hour but
it's Easter morn and
everyone's sleeping on
their modified plans
no mass (no mas)
and you've got no one
to model your bonnet for
but you've got that chocolate
bunny you will mash into
your face at the appropriate moment
fingers all black and sticky
with the mortal sin of it but
on the third day you will rise
and begin your diet
no rest for me
up working again
on the new book
still trying to learn how
after all this time
to fit into this skin
less awkwardly
to be a "person"
inhabiting a planet
and to tone down the
frightful jitters of that
not my nature to feel at ease
inside this meat suit
(something I've seldom
talked about)
having decided
that burning the candle
at both ends
is the only thing
that will distract me
from the terrible Mork-ness of it
I'm not from around here
and I've given up fighting
the insomnia
just incorporated
the extra hours into my
routineless routine
still trying to skate by
beneath this scorched
and blackened sky
https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/
NOTE: Today's offering is an encore presentation first published in 2012. I've updated it to reflect the current year, but otherwise it is as originally published--perhaps more relevant to today's times than it was back then.
the day was December twenty-first,
and the year was two thousand and twenty.
and all of the folks down at the auction house
were going about their daily bid-ness
when there came a thundering boom
and a boomerous thunder
and the skies opened up
and a chorus of angels sang out
and all began to wonder
as the cry rang into the night:
why, them damn Mayans were right!
cuz it's closin' time
here at the world
last call for alcohol
at the weary old world
the preachers were atop their street corner
soap boxes
railing fire and brimstone
'cept for that crazy one
who kept predicting the end
on one date and then another
was doing an Irish jig on a table top
cackling: I told ya--suckhas!
Let the animals loose!
a man began to shout--
let 'em run for higher ground
and we'll be right on their tails.
(but people move like snails.)
and I saw Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes
wailin' the ol' Gut Bucket Blues
as she took another swig of booze
knowing she had nothing to lose
as she said, "C'mon boys--line up over here and take a number!"
and people were making love
in the street--
yeah, they were squirmin' like a toad
to the boombox strains of
Why Don't We Do It In The Road.
cuz it's closin' time
here at the world
almost closin' time
at the weary ol' world.
so strained under the weight
of inflated egos
and institutionalized hate.
and the churches opened their doors to all,
and didn't stop to check
if you were straight or gay--
to the sudden epiphany
that all of us can pray.
And mom and pop
said to the kids
go ahead and open
your presents--
it's now or never
forever and ever.
and Santa at the mall
bolted upright
with a "git this BRAT offa me"
as he headed for the bar
and ran into another car.
and Dick Cheney,
scrambling for a place to hunker,
remembered he still had the key
to that underground bunker.
and people were jumping
from the top of Jeff Bridges
as confusion rained
on The Supremes.
and old Betty Conklin
recalled how she used
all that aerosol spray
and she never recycled
not even for a day...
and old Jeb Mcgurk
spat the juice from his chaw
as he cried: hallelujah--here I
come ma and paw!
and Paris Hilton
from her mansion of riches
took out her ipad and tweeted:
so long, bitches!
and as the animals headed for the hills
('cept the ones in Kansas--
they just ran in circles)
the roaches were throwing
a giant block party
with hijacked scones and coffee
cuz it's closin' time
here at the world
closin' time at the weary old world
no more time to be clever...
time to roll up the sidewalks
and stash them away
forever.
