In the days after Floyd,
in the face of BLM,
in the choice to defund police,
we have the option to make daring decisions
and see if cops are the one-size-fits-all approach
to our social dilemmas
or if we can figure out more nuanced solutions to issues we face.
Perhaps mental health financing could be considered
rather that battering rams
or EMTs instead of shotguns
or seasoned tape kit workers instead of SWAT teams.
Random thoughts for a reactionary world.
It goes to show you never can tell
what they never tell you.
Nobody told me, after all,
there’d be days like these.
Nobody told me that
that flat top moves up slowly.
Who’d have expected that, with all that cracking spine?
Certainly nobody told me that rock and roll has a back beat
that can’t be bluesed any old way it was used.
I could never tell that on my own;
I had to be informed!
And I didn’t know,
until somebody told me,
that Marie from Tennessee was older that three
but less than seven.
They never tell you this stuff
without certain dispensation
and I don’t got that.
I just wish that I could get some information, please.
A Wealth of Concerns
I’ve got an abundance of excuses as to why
I’m not qualified for the position
you’re trying to fill.
I haven’t worked in your office before.
You have no idea how I’m going to fit in
with the other employees.
It’s been at least a week since I’ve worked in any office.
Who knows how I’ll behave around civilized people?
I’ve been know to get a little focused on the work
at the expense of proper socialization
in professional settings.
I wouldn’t want that to happen with you guys.
Lastly, I’ve killed at least eight of my former colleagues
at my last job.
Frankly, I’m surprised I was able to get a reference from that company at all.
You didn’t check with them?
Oh. That’s disappointing.
Well, now that I’ve shared my reservations,
let me tell you why I think I’d be a good fit
for the position…
I had to look up “fly in the ointment,”
don’t ask me why.
I learned a little bit in the process;
let me signify:
an ointment ain’t a thick stew of a treatment.
That was lesson one.
That was news to me, at least…
and this shit ain’t done.
It’s a biblical reference, doncha know,
for you ungodly sorts.
It comes from Ecclesiastes,
I’m able to report.
A reference to how a healthy potion
can be stunk up by some dead flies
which is not what I assumed it meant
whenever I hypothesized.
So here I am presenting this story
as a public service to all.
You’re welcome. I’m certain you enjoyed
and I’m so glad that you were enthralled.
Walking cross town on this drizzly day
the street is lightly travelled.
Few are taking this path across town,
perhaps they’ve reached their destinations.
Schools are closed.
Where are the children?
A wig lays lonely on the sidewalk.
No animals roam;
they know better.
Trash has been taken in;
perhaps that keeps the creatures at bay.
I walk a lonely road
and it is a grey day.
We don’t touch.
Why don’t we touch?
I think that’s about me
Because I avoid contact.
Everybody around us hugs.
People who just met hug.
We don’t hug.
That’s about me.
It must be.
It’s all about me.
Why do I create these lack of connections?
Why do I build
walls?
Why do I insist on
walls?
The lesson had been good.As I left the house,
I saw my room-mate on the street.
"What’s going on?" he asked.
I shrugged. What did he mean?
He looked beyond me.
I turned. There was a man on a ladder
right outside my window.
The window I had just been sitting at
the last several hours, working.
"I thought I noticed a shape," I said.
"No idea."
"For a small building,
it sure has a lot of work done on it," Barry said.
I didn’t hear what the work was later.
I may never know.
I’ve never been a fan of trying to hide your natural odor.
I personally don’t find anything wrong with how I smell,
but of course, my nose is in a constant state of being stuffed.
I’ve had food allergies since I was twelve.
Still, if I had a really rocking band that I lead
and I could create an amazing video concert
directed by a fantastic auteur,
I would seriously consider calling it Stop Making Scents.
No, I wouldn’t.
Just stop and breathe for a moment.
Take stock of the situation; figure out where you are.
You may be able to calculate what you need to do
to catch up.
You are forty six behind right now
which is not so much if you think about it.
It takes you about half an hour to do each one,
so if you just focus, be patient,
and get to work,
you should be able to catch up in
twenty three solid hours of work.
So with a solid day of no sleep working non-stop
– no errors,
no problems –
I’ll be up to date,
if nothing new comes in.
Of course new work is going to come in.
This is impossible.
This will not work out.
Hyperventilating is clearly the only solution.
Pardon me while I get to work on that…
The rains have stopped so you stumbled out of the tent.
Finally.
You’re glad you could escape that thing.
The two of you confined in there
had been mortifying.
The meal of beans seemed filling last night.
Filled with gas.
You hadn’t expected to be stuck in there since
with no escape except into torrential downpour.
Now, as the world begins to steam itself dry,
a sweet smell comes off the land
and you are relieved to be free
of the stink of yourselves.
Camping is probably done
for the foreseeable future
but you probably could have predicted that anyway.
jonberger 