Others pinch and slap and kick you,
demanding that you get up, get up.
Then there are those that accost you,
right in the middle of the cross walk,
as you make your way from curb to curb.
And one day,
while you’re browsing the book shelves
and holding a steaming Styrofoam cupful
of Mocha Loco Whats-it-to-ya,
you’ll look up and see one looking back at you
through an open space in an eye level shelf
in the bargain section where they keep all the good stuff.
And, oh, those eyes.
They’ll flutter and pop,
and you’ll see that knowing grin,
and you can bet your bottom dollar
that this one is dangerous.
Maybe it will. Yay!
Or maybe it will sit on its stubborn little ass and look at you like you’ve lost your mind.
“You want me to follow you for doing what? How shall I say this? Let me see. YAWN.”
Money’s fickle. Money’s unpredictable. Money can’t be trusted with your happiness. [Read more...]
It’s a night (and a lesson) I’ll never forget.[again]
My Father Laughed at Me (and I loved it)
I can still see him sitting there beside my mother in the front row. His skin was pale. His frame was lean. He looked so tired and weak. Just months before, he’d been diagnosed with Leukemia, a thing that seemed intent on doing what it came to do in a quick and merciless manner.
But what I remember most about that night was the sound of his laughter. From the stage and all through the performance, I could hear him chuckling and giggling in a way I hadn’t heard him do in quite some time. It was the laugh I’d always loved, and on that night, it was the sweetest sound I’d ever heard.
It was, however, a fluke that I was even in the play. I hadn’t pursued the role, or any other role, or much of anything else I cared about since high school. Long ago, I’d put such things away in order to become practical.
Who I Used to Be
I used to hold the spool in one hand,
tight like a secret I couldn’t reveal,
and, with the other, I held onto you.