empty as an old oxygen tank.
she'll forget him before the year is out,
and marry somebody else;
when she's three months along with a baby conceived from make-up sex,
she'll take thalidomide to help her sleep.
bill and larry have dates,
but would really rather be with each other.
larry will solve it with a noose;
bill will become a cop and bust fags with a baton.
ellen is already bipolar, but doesn't realize it yet.
millie will marry a dentist who will beat her brains in,
then he'll sit in front of that same fireplace sucking gas from the clinic.
tonight it's still early, and they're waiting for larry's cool aunt
who will tell their fortunes from the tarot.
on his deathbed, cancer boy will remember how his date's boobs felt in his hands,
but he'll have forgotten his own sons' names--
the ones whose hair will be longer than hers is now.
_______
for magpie 174
big sigh for the tragedy of it all...
ReplyDeleteWowzers. It's a good thing, back then, in our bobby socks and saddle shoes and so cool pleated skirts, that we didnt know what lay ahead of us.
ReplyDeleteMy aunt used to knit sexy sweaters like that for my frumpy, pear-shaped cousins. They just didn't look the same on those two. OTOH, they lead happy if excruciatingly boring lives, so I guess there's always a tradeoff.
ReplyDeleteYou've told some true stories here that read like pulp fiction, but unfortunately, weren't.Sharp as a brain surgeon's motorized saw.
'led' not 'lead' sigh..
ReplyDeleteSad tales. Kind of like what a high school reunion would be--if anyone was honest at one of those things.
ReplyDeleteThe music is perfect for this. It really caps it off...
The part of life that no one wants to dwell on for too long...
ReplyDeleteWell written!
Wow I laughed at line 8
ReplyDeleteand then my stomach did a flip at line 9.
As much as people long for the "good ol' days" I think I'll take what we have now, as imperfect as it is... (I mean, it wasn't ever perfect...)
I liked this depressing little read.
So...just another day in the neighborhood then? In my mind's eye I picture Dennis Hopper sucking gas from a tank, then screaming through gritted teeth, "Won't you be my neighbor?!"
ReplyDeleteShay!
ReplyDeleteYour poem is mesmerizing, terrifying and fascinating, sad and I absolutely LOVED every word.
I echo what sioux said.
ReplyDeleteThis was an accurate synopsis of my era before 'closets' were integrated into the venacular or depictions of where our secrets were stored.
Well written, Fireblossom
I know you could've written this out of whole cloth, but I suspect it's autobiographical. It's a sly gambit writing from the perspective of cancer boy's deathbed memory girl, but you make it work.
ReplyDeleteThis is brilliant.
ReplyDeleteWe'ed sing and dance, forever and a day....
ReplyDeleteI just love it when you Time Travel
Sad, yet I was mesmerized by the outcome of all their lives.
ReplyDeleteYou've no idea how impressed with this piece I am. It's positively unique and with the kind of depth I admire.
ReplyDeleteThat was great! You've written an entire novel in a few short paragraphs of poetry. It left me thinking, and sad, and hopeful for the characters, like all writing should.
ReplyDeleteShiny, happy people...
ReplyDeleteDark and so very real...always nice to see you at Magpie, Shay!
ReplyDelete