They name things after people.
It's done all the time,
like
the George Washington Bridge
or
Kennedy Space Center.
Nobody doesn't like Sara Lee
but then,
Sara Lee never did anything to me.
There are others.
O'Hare airport,
Richard A. Handlon Correctional Facility
or
Willard Asylum for the Chronic Insane.
I'm adding one
and calling it
The Pat R. Harvey Desert.
Its grand scale reflects your self-importance,
its shifting sands your endless bogus tap dance,
and its
vast, uninhabitable wastes
your vacant heart.
I placed a plaque
smack dab in the middle
where the sun is harshest.
It tells the tale
of which curb I kicked your bullshit to.
If you want it,
it's out there where nothing can survive
with your golf clubs
and your
side piece.
_______
for What's Going On? "desert"
.
A desert being, with a vacant heart engaged in a bogus tap-tapping, in love with golf clubs is evil. Surely.
ReplyDeleteI looked up Pat R. Harvey and couldn't find anything, so I am probably missing something. However, he reminds me a lot of someone else with a bogus tap dance! As for Sara Lee, I did not ever see the appeal with its super sweetness and artificial flavor!
ReplyDeleteIt's the name of someone from my past and I changed it slightly so it can't be searched. I also changed certain details--but not the sense of the poem--for the same reason.
DeleteThanks for the explanation! I think many of us has such "Pat R.Harvey's" in our lives!
DeleteI couldnt find Pat R Harvey either. But I love the bullshit being kicked to the middle of the desert, and the "uninhabitable wastes of your vacant heart" which could not be said any better, about the orange golfer.
ReplyDeleteSee my reply to Mary about "Pat R. Harvey."
DeleteMe, too on the Pat thing--it seems like someone I should know about, since all the other names are common famous ones. Barring that, this is a pretty scathing poem, especially as it works towards its conclusion, with "..It tells the tale/of which curb I kicked your bullshit to.." and the golf clubs and sidearm being standouts. So many people seem to do their best to leave us a desert behind them.
ReplyDeleteA desert is probably the best place for a bad person or memory to reside...away from the niceties of regular life...
ReplyDeleteI've never jived with this dull habit we have of naming things reverentially after "honorable" men ("And Brutus is an honorable man . . . ")! But i would gladly consign the lot of "Pat R. Harveys" to the hottest .... desert and like you, place the "plaque
ReplyDeletesmack dab in the middle
where the sun is harshest."
The desert has one advantage other landscapes may not, I would think. It makes you confront yourself ruthlessly and without hypocrisy and poseurs of all sorts could use an experience like that to wake them up.
I know I'm going on and on, but your poem made me think of Agatha Christie's "Absent in Spring" -- a psychological novel she wrote under the name Mary Westmacott. It has just this sort of desert setting where the main character (a recognizable type of narcissistic woman) is forced to confront their life, their choices and their mistakes. You may like it.
I think I'll avoid the "Pat R. Harvey Desert" at all costs, as the landscape embraces their negative qualities with its own deadliness! A powerful indictment and sentence.
ReplyDeleteI googled Par R. Harvey but see I did that in vane from your other comment. LOL I really love what you did here Shay! A desert is the best place to recognize this person who obviously is a true horses ass in more ways than one!
ReplyDeleteOh and thank you for your lovely words over at my blog.
ReplyDeleteI love this! Threaded through with your customary dry humour and I love that final stanza especially 🙂
ReplyDeleteGood for you for kicking the bs to the curb. It takes a strong person to do that! Seeing clearly - Truedessa
ReplyDeleteThat's right! Get it, sis!
ReplyDelete