sitting on the couch with my wife
and a plate of baked french fries
the gloaming coming on and the room darkening
I remember I'm a Thursday's Child and have "far to go."
Damnit, i've gone far enough already.
to my wife I say, while taking a fry from the blue plate
"I think when the kids grow up
and can take care of themselves
we should become barflies in the Keys."
there is a pause while we dip into ketchup
"we could go on the public dole" says I
"fuck all our education. We'll sleep under piers
get wrinkled from the sun,
like a pair of apple dolls."
she takes a fry, chews silently.
Bob the Builder rides Muck to Farmer Pickles field
to fix something-or-other on TV.
time passes.
"I think Hawaii has nicer beaches", she says.
I agree.
3 comments:
Sweet moment.
Aim high.
Also, please don't move farther away. I hear the Ohio River has some nice beaches.
Kind Sir,
I applaud your choise of a future profession. Live life to the hilt my boy, to the hilt! I can picture the two of you as bronze as brass monkeys, sipping fruity drinks (maybe mojitos, maybe) and clueing in all the new-comers where to find the best early-bird specials, cheap drinks that aren't watered down, and the best piers to get it on under. You guys will the highlight of the local bar scene. You'll sit there, drinking, telling a life-time's worth of dirty jokes, bitching about all the "old people", and threatening to perform oral sex on the other at the drop of a hat. Wait...Do you think you could reserve a pier next to you for Flannery and I?
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