SORES
AND WHO AM I TO ASK YOU TO LICK MY SORES
I am a car salesman magnet Chrysler not Mercedes
That’s just how I roll 2 fell hard in recent memory
I’m a principal he said to overcome his shortcomings
His blue-collar beginnings His tacky metaphor Baskin
+Robbins non-Beckettian brilliance I like tasting A little
taste of this a little taste of that Banal bliss?
I was unimpressed Ditto the failed thigh grab with meaty
thumbs As well with the odd lilt of a Macedonian dialect
though he was 32 +born in the bowels of Mimico Olive skinned
Belushi dead ringer Made me yearn for Gnarls Barkley Seriously
A solid sawed off shotgun who’d be wicked in backless chaps
(ewww?)
Not if you understand my family Grew up with wolves hardened
men’s men Who do not shy away from debauchery I actually stole
the backless chaps line from one bro who waxed depraved re: Rihannon
Giddons as we watched her cavort on stage And I agree wholeheartedly
Though Rhiannon is almost too much woman for a man
Take my father a local legend who seemed to have morphed into a neon
orange bird on our last visit to his grave A Hooded Oriole never ever found
this far north calling us as we listened to Jazz +swatted flies But as the bird
began to bomb dive the car we realized it was he Had he died after our mother
he would likely be in New Orleans where the track always beckoned +longlegged
bayou queens crooned his name Leeeeeeeeeeee Leeeeeeeeee
Later that day after being shut out at the cemetery we visited another local
legend struggling with late stage disease A wastrel like Lee after his quadruple
by-pass surgery He offered me an elegant hand with a gentleness unusual to
hulking men And in a grave voice he spoke his love of cars Glimmers of muscles
rippling the Boss blaring Teenaged girls too scared to approach the court of
this Manor king
Moral of this story: STOP PRETENDING TO BE ASLEEP! The wastrel days they
stalk you Jump into your car! Head down to Buffalo for chrissakes Esacpe the
little bunky where you sleep Tail between legs licking your sores (ankle chains are
clunky) Go On! Escape that bunky where you fight your wife for the TV night after
soulless night
__
Was I sleeping while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I
wake, or think I do, what shall I say of to-day? That with Estragon my friend, at this
place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot?…..But habit is a great deadener. At
me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows
nothing, let him sleep on. ( Waiting For Godot Samuel Bekett 1954)
SPRING 2018 May 21, 1921 – August 16, 1989 RIP LEE ATKINS
songanddancegirl 