Saturday, May 26, 2007
The Tire Iron Incident
[Old poem of mine from the nineties. I'm re-dedicating it to Timothy "I'll Wail On Your Ass" Harris.]
My bell was to the Blue Moon Tavern,
but my fare wasn't Paul
- the call was usually for Paul -
Paul who once said
"All I can give you for a tip is my Sister."
Paul I could live with.
No instead it was
Mr. "Start the meter & come in & have a beer with me"
to whom I said No thanks I'm driving
to which he said You know what your problem is?
YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO LIVE.
So I said I'm alive as you can see so that can't be.
He said No you're just getting by you don't know anything about living.
I said Do you want a cab or do you just want to waste my time.
He said The meter's running I'm paying for this.
I said No you're paying me to drive somewhere my job isn't to be
A CAPTIVE AUDIENCE FOR YOUR FUCKED-UP PHILOSOPHY.
He said If I'm paying you to drive why aren't you driving.
I said BECAUSE, your IDIOT-SHIP, you haven't told me where you're going.
No. I'm lying. I didn't say your Idiot-Ship I didn't say fucked-up
I needed to drive cab to survive
they'd suspend me no matter how much
the jerk deserved it
I DIDN'T SAY THOSE THINGS.
To what I did say he finally gave an address & as I drove that way
He said PEOPLE LIKE YOU MAKE ME SICK.
My memory gets fuzzy now but I AM CERTAIN it was JUST THEN that I
FIRST recalled the TIRE IRON.
When all else fails there's that tire iron at my left hand.
It was a soothing thought, a sweet gentle reassuring thought,
a thought, which, repeated in my mind
might make my miserable
But NO, though just the thought of the tire iron did enable me
to survive to our destination
just thinking about it
would not continue to suffice.
For he would not pay & get out.
He would instead instruct me on the FULL extant of the inadequacy
of MY nature INTERMINABLY.
When I said yes I see it now you're right I've been wrong
He said Don't tell me that you're so stupid you don't even know
what you're agreeing to
I'LL HAVE TO EXPLAIN IT TO YOU AGAIN
And then he went on,
He said I'm telling you what's wrong with you
I'M DOING YOU A FAVOR,
you want to learn how to live don't you?
And I hear you want to live don't you
And I think you want to live don't you
And I'm feeling the tire iron with my fingers
And I'm thinking he wants to live doesn't he -
And I'm rolling the tire iron in my fingers
And I'm thinking yesss he wants to live he does
And I'm raising the tire iron up slowly
And he says you're a fool not even worth talking to
I'm doing you a FAVOR
And his skull cracks open and there's blood everywhere on the seats on the
windows on the doors in my hair
Oh God what will I do about the blood I think
but I don't stop I keep swinging
I'm drenched in blood HE'S STILL TALKING
I break his nose I break his teeth
I break his jaw HE'S STILL TALKING
I shove it down his throat and twist he's STILL talking
I cram it in his chest I snap his rib cage
I PRY OUT HIS HEART HIS LIVER HIS LUNGS
HE'S STILL TALKING!!
NO. I'M LYING. After he said that last thing he paid & got out.
He DID know how to live, DIDN'T he?