No Time For Candy Or Remorse: A Ballad

american snack bar

I eat too many potato chips. And I smoke too many cigarettes. I am on Netflix all the time, and spill whatever dinner I fix in my bed.

Then, I wash the duvet cover again, and, taking it off, button by button, I find the yellow stitching of a woman I once loved. Long ago, far away.

I watch too many bad movies, and I make too many comments about things I don’t really care about online, just too feel I’m alive, or that I exist.

Afterwards, I shave my face to keep up a public exterior (whatever ‘public’ means anymore). I moisturize heavily to hide decades of wrinkles and mistakes.

I walk inside my cupboard and pull out a brand new box of saltines. I crunch through a column of these in no more than ten minutes. I feel better than Doritos.

Looking skyward at the night sky, I know I go to the barnyard too often. I see the stars spilled like chicken feed there, and go to sleep after a few blinks.

Neighbors wave. My paunch is hidden. My calves look strong. Up the steep hill and down the rolling ones (reverse of course on the way back). I am an admirable looking middle-aged man, who runs four miles at least thrice a week.

Frozen pizza, Friendly’s ice cream (on sale), and American Spirit tobacco keep me going through the wee hours of early dawn when I wake up as restless as a donkey tied to a well, kicked in the face.

My dryer is broke, my tires are bald, unraked colored autumn leaves will flatten out and kill half the grass they’re lying on. I tired easily.

Whatever women I had known in three cities or two, or ninety, that and my old flame and troubadour, Ezra Pound, means less than half of nothing to me today.

I eat junk, smoke too much, and I’ve been pulling on the bottle again, just to stop myself from this damn’d business of thinking all the time, my friend.

2 thoughts on “No Time For Candy Or Remorse: A Ballad

  1. Ezra Pound would be proud of your post, I believe.

    My favorite line: I walk inside my cupboard and pull out a brand new box of saltines. I crunch through a column of these in no more than ten minutes. I feel better than Doritos.

    It’s interesting how ones bad habit is always excused as being not as bad as this one or that one — The silly things we tell ourselves in order to keep doing what we really shouldn’t be doing.

    Tres excellente!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. People die to have readers and critics like you…I just couldn’t help myself from writing this whole “silly thing” when I actually had some much more “serious” work to do at hand. Haha. But your comment does what great reading does—watches the intentions that lurk within the text itself, and are undeniably so. Thank you. As ever.

      Liked by 1 person

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