Thursday, November 26, 2015

One Does Not Simply Walk In

Dread is a useful emotion--
it's nature's way of telling you something's wrong.

As the rodent considers the feline at the mouth of the burrow,
as the passenger considers the drunken buffoon sliding behind the wheel,
I consider your stupid bedside radio
playing your unbearable soporific radio station,
and dread of the next thirty years overtakes me.

It is then that I know that I-eye-eye
will not always
love you-OOOOooooooo.

However, one does not simply walk in,
turn one's delicate bangled wrist sideways,
and start blasting as you lay in bed dreaming of the stupid shit that fills your head.

One must endure the outings at your suggestion,
the lame, candy-cute destinations you choose for us,
eating away my free hours like a virulent, if wholesome, cancer.

I thought loving another woman would be better.
I thought there would be good sex (there was),
that my life would be free and fine and full,
and that it would rain ten dollar bills every afternoon at four.

I know now, that no sanity-saving modicum of happiness
will ever slip through the customs house of your insecurity,
the labor camp of your unreasoning jealousy,
or the passive-aggressive pogrom of your thoroughly fucked up personality.

One does not simply walk in and slosh an accelerant pell-mell.
One does not, then, offer you a light for the very last time,
gallant butch to the end.

But if one is lucky, very lucky,
one simply wakes up, and the offending clock radio isn't there.
YOU aren't there, and the dread slowly ebbs away,
giving way to gratitude and an intoxicating elation.

See how happy you have made me, how ever long it took?
One does not simply accept such bounty as one's due.
To do so would be to dishonor the Goddess who, in Her mercy,
gave me the great boon and gift

of your absence.
______

For my Fireblossom Friday challenge at Real Toads--"Dread".

 
"A circus of horrors, yeah that's what you are"--John Fred and his Playboy Band

26 comments:

Kerry O'Connor said...

Wow! This is a cutting (of the slash and burn variety) commentary of a failed relationship. You kept up the pace throughout and nailed it in the final stanzas.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Probably the best Dear John letter I ever read. You had me snickering at I-eye-eye wont always love youuuuuuuuuuu.

Cloudia said...

Too many great lines and phrases to quote here. You are in your stride!


"I thought loving another woman would be better.
I thought there would be good sex (there was),
that my life would be free and fine and full,
and that it would rain ten dollar bills every afternoon at four.

I know now, that no sanity-saving modicum of happiness
will ever slip through the customs house of your insecurity,
the labor camp of your unreasoning jealousy,
or the passive-aggressive pogrom of your thoroughly fucked up personality."

Touche`






Warm ALOHA,
ComfortSpiral

(\__/)
(='.'=)
(")_('')

ஜிப்சி பனி said...

That girl sounds awesome. If you're done with her, send her my way!

ஜிப்சி பனி said...

P.S. My son and I are loving the song you posted. He's dancing all over the place. It's really cute. :)

TexWisGirl said...

wow. awesome!

brudberg said...

Isn't a lot easier and a lot less messy if you are blessed with her absence without having to use a meat-cleaver... I really love the detail of the clock-radio... it's always a warning if there is not a match in music.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

I had to come back and read it again to remind me how glad I am I am no longer married. It was way back in the early 70's but I still remember the dread in the pit of my stomach when I heard his key turn in the lock. This poem speaks to our shared herstory!

Susan said...

Wow! Such polite butchiness and gentle patience! But I know what you mean by "eating away my free hours like a virulent, if wholesome, cancer" only too well.

Sioux said...

"I know now, that no sanity-saving modicum of happiness
will ever slip through the customs house of your insecurity,
the labor camp of your unreasoning jealousy,
or the passive-aggressive pogrom of your thoroughly fucked up personality."

Those lines--kind of like a Julia Sugarbaker rant from "Designing Women"--are cutting and brilliant.

Brendan MacOdrum said...

Maybe coz I picked up the Badfinger vibe from the start but the whole pome explicated the song in a way I never fully understood. Dread is nature's way of telling us we are wrong, wrong, wrong. That is why we must remain ever grateful for the untenderest mercies we receive -- and be infinitely wary of gift horse in gilt hose. Thanks for the respite from turkeys.

Jim said...

How does one escape? Especially when it's been a sweet and sour relationship. Then there are mixed emotions, keeping things status quo is the coward's easy way. You told it well.
I like to see how the promptor does with the prompt, was a poem already in mind when it was chosen? Or was the dictionary randomly opened as a Bible gets opened for finding a verse chosen by God? Thank you, I enjoyed.
BTW, my first left, it hurt. But now I am often reminded of the old CW song, "Thank God and Greyhound she's gone."
..

Other Mary said...

Ouch! You didn't bury her in the back yard, did you? Love the tone of this...the $10 at 4:00 really made me chuckle, cause I kinda' thought that too.

Marian said...

Yowza. That "outings" stanza in particular is soooo real. Go girl, go!

Outlawyer said...

I can understand the radio portion of this particularly well--the dread palpable. k.

kaykuala said...

Dread is a useful emotion--
it's nature's way of
telling you something's wrong

Great opening Shay! There is that uncanny feeling that a wrong somewhere is exerting pressure on the mind. The reaction to it is determined by the strength of character of the affected party. Very incisive!


Hank

Mama Zen said...

Been there, longed to burn that! The labor camp stanza is miles beyond brilliant.

Helen said...

It would appear I am in good company with that overwhelming sensation of relief! Great write, Shay.

grapeling said...

ka-boom.

dread, handled, with that boon. ~

hedgewitch said...

Gosh--can't believe I missed this! Really, I can't imagine a better example of what is to be dreaded--that death in life of living another's way--it is so sticky, so hard to get off the fingers...even after you wake up and the bed is blessedly yours again. This is just one stellar hammer blow after another, driving the coffin nails into a dead feeling that perversely, gives so much life to the victim who has lived through it and survived. I especially love the third stanza; though it is not as magically explicit as some of the others, it retains the particular magic of satire sinking in, when we mock our own lives--the first step to changing them. An excellent, excellent poem, Shay, and the perfect one for your challenge.

Gillena Cox said...

sometimes the just - you and you alone - is all you need

have a nice weekend

much love...

Carol Campbell said...

Powerful, very powerful. The intensity was felt in my bones!!

Lisa said...

Bravo - i love your work always, and i love you - xx

Buddah Moskowitz said...

How cool... You and I have loved the same woman. I'm sure you satisfied her in a way I could never, but ain't that always the way. Loved "the passive-aggressive pogrom of your thoroughly fucked up personality."

La la Mosk

Susie Clevenger said...

Wow! Nothing like the gift of someone being gone. That seventh stanza summed it up. There is no hell like trying to feed security to the insecure.

Margaret said...

...Even though the rant is loud and clear throughout, I can still see a tenderness - for she could have just dumped her. But sometimes it's easier to not be confrontational. Your characters always are so real.