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Snake Handler

I wake up in the backseat of Crazy Dave's Camaro
with a kink in my neck and an evil headache -
but the worst is yet to come.
My girlfriend Treena will be furious I missed church.
I take a piss in the flowerbed
and scratch Dave's Bluetick Coonhound ribcage vigorously.
I stick my head under the hose,
splash some water in my armpits and on the back of my neck
and drive home to face her wrath.
"The idiot decides to show up after all,"
Treena says the moment I walk through the door.
She's right, I have a fairly low I.Q..
"At least put a shirt on you hairy bastard."
She's right about that too. I am sort of bristly.
"So what happened? Let me guess -
out all night with your loser friends,
drinking, smoking the dope, having a grand ol' time.
Probably cheating with some whore no doubt," she accuses.
"You know I wasn't."
"Don't you think it's time you grew up?" she re-accuses.
She's probably right.
But I'm not entirely sure what grown up means.
I head into the kitchen, pour a glass of orange juice
and hold the cool carton against my forehead.
"We missed the service and lunch with my family
because retard here doesn't listen to a thing I say," she says.
"You're right, I can be an idiot."
I stand at the kitchen sink and watch the neighborhood kids
kick a soccer ball in the street,
their laughter and light muted and far away.
"And how about cleaning this shit up before I get home,"
she says, walks out and slams the door behind her.
She's right. I'm a slob.
The autumn sun crawls through the curtains
and fills the living room with an unfathomable sorrow.
But I don't really notice it.
I'm busy watching Monster Truck Wars on TV,
three beers into a six pack, waiting for the timer to go off
telling me my deep dish with extra pineapple
is ready and set to go.

16 Oct 13

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A new coat of pain(t) on an old wound.
 — 9

Bukowski on writing:
“If you are going to try, go all the way or don’t even start. If you follow it you will be alive with the gods. It is the only good fight there is.”

First of all, let me just say, this poem, as with all of yours, is definitely alive with the gods. Second, I hope Dave’s Bluetick is a dog and not some kinky metaphor. (You may want to put a little distance between the pissing in the flowerbed phrase & scratching the Bluetick!) And finally, you lost me on L38. My own personal opinion, but pineapple pizza tastes like shit. ;-) Other than that, another great read!
 — clupeidae

i think treena is a hallucination, from the drugs. :)
and i think dave is dead, buried in the backyard. an accident perhaps.
and all of this going on is an illusion but you are in so deep you have created a new life for yourself.

^ just kidding.

this is fantastic! i don't think i could hang out with treena. she would give me an incredible headache.
 — mandolyn

The gods will live in you, if you mean it.
Also, I added more pineapple ;-)

mandolyn - Treena gives everyone a headache. I was usually intoxicated,
so I was immune to most of it. My problem is that I end up loving people
if I'm around them for more than two days. And then, I can't see their faults.
Today my psychiatrist basically explained Treena to me. It helped.
Thanks for reading my things. I appreciate it very much.
 — 9

^ did your psychiatrist tell you that treena is insecure and needy and just wants you to take care of her so she doesn't have to work and that is why she is always on your back about being lazy? or did he just say "she's a kardashian" and you were like "oh ok" -- dude, i could SO be a psychiatrist! :)

you need to stop being around people for more than 2 days. (wow, that actually sounds so dreamy! to me anyway) people depress me.
 — mandolyn

Right now I'm writing about what happened today at my appointment.
Yes I think you could be a psychologist :)
But why do people depress you?
 — 9

i was totally kidding about counseling people. i would give them the worst advice ever. like if they said to me "i can't stop being lazy" i would say "stop it" then i'd ask them if they wanted to go get something to eat.

not all people depress me, but most do. i don't know why. the happiest ones do, maybe because deep down i want to be that happy, but then i wonder if they are as happy as they seem or if they are just playing a part, to look good to others. that poem "i smile because it makes you look good" that i wrote, that explains a lot of it. i need to see a psychiatrist and say "i can't stop thinking about what my life could have been" so they can say to me "stop it" -- really i just need to spend more time helping others and investing my time in the needs of others-- but all i want to do is stay away from others. i love caves. i love the backwoods. i love all things far and hidden and away. and the things i love that are open and exposed is vast land with nobody on it. i guess what i am trying to say is a cactus makes better company these days. (perhaps i was born in the wrong era or maybe i'm just as lazy and selfish) <- yeah, that is it. but dang, i do long to know the 1700's, except for scurvy and small pox.

but i'm sure that wouldn't make a difference. it's all in my head.
i look forward to your treena poem. i'll pop some popcorn. :)
 — mandolyn

I relate to what you're saying. Yes, most people hide the misery inside.
Life is hard. So very hard. You have to die to be happy.
A seed must die to bear fruit. But dying while you're alive is hard business isn't it?
 — 9

a seed must die to bear fruit. to be born again. you are so very right. hiding misery is better than showing it. i know someone very close to me who would say that is being neurotic and self absorbed, needy and 'eyes on yourself' type of thing. i think he really believes we are robots.
i also love God but lately i feel further away from Him. i know too when i am being self absorbed or in sin and i feel awful, but then this rush of emotion takes over me at random times of the day and i think "balls! seriously? it's like i'm friggin' pregnant all over again!" but i'm not.

suffering does sting- sometimes it's a good sting. other times you just want to see the black void and be done. but i believe that void (for some) will be full of light and an overwhelming peace that one cannot even begin to imagine in this lifetime. but i don't deserve it.
 — mandolyn

9, brother you fucking amaze me. I think you are my favorite poet here that has a dick. Treena sounds like a bitch but I think it's pretty outstanding that you love her anyways. Not many could do that. You set a good example for us real assholes. I'll drink a Pabst blue ribbon in honor of you tonight.
 — yield

Yield you are too kind! You have to understand, nobody has ever loved her :(
I will raise a Miller Light (that's all I have) in your honor tonight my friend.
 — 9

mandolyn :(
 — 9

I looked up the meaning of Treena, which is normally Trina and Scandinavian. It said it means "Triple" or "Trinity" I'm thinking maybe she has three of her inside. And one of them is the one you really love. It also means "Pure" That could work, yeah? I totally get you man. I know someone that has never been loved the way she should be loved. Maybe it's the same with Treena. We don't know her, you do.
 — yield

And Cheers to that Miller!! =)
 — yield

 — 9

hey wait a minute... what happened to emmett? did he join a big firm in ny?
 — mandolyn

Yes Emmett is still around as far I know.
A sweet guy. And a yes, a lot smarter than I am!
Treena doesn't really talk to me anymore :(
Snake Handler is a re-post, notice my first comment.

I finished writing about my psychiatric appointment today,
but it's just way too long to post :(
Nine mystic minds should be able to do better.
 — 9

but you can do long poems and get away with it, 9! nine stanzas... :)
i want to read it, so you better post it.

yes, i completely forgot this is one you already had but put some new paint on. durr.
does treena live with you? she is probably just hoping you will "want" her more or show her you do before she shows you attention. i dunno. girls can be whacked. crack whacked. :)
what does she do? for a living i mean. you probably mentioned it in another poem but i forgot.
 — mandolyn

and what is smart anyway? just because he has a college degree and studied a bunch? i mean, that is good and all but don't think yourself to be dumb compared to him. he may have a good job or be able to debate someone on some matter concerning the law or physics but can he write about OJ and make it enjoyable or about the beauty of doing things for others even when they don't do it for you? does he ever sit down and breathe and think about life around him? maybe he does. but i betcha you'd beat him at a game of scrabble. :)
 — mandolyn

Yes, I suppose there's all kinds of intelligence,
she just happens to prefer his. Plus he takes showers
and does legal drugs. Thanks for the vote of confidence.
 — 9

^ lol. you almost made the soda i'm drinking shoot out my nose.
 — mandolyn

Only pussies do legal drugs. And taking a shower in Tequila counts.
 — yield

 — unknown

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