Written to be performed as spoken word. |
Scooby Doo Covers Life on the road is shared celestial moments. And I? Seeking solace in songs and photos, a soul’s Hostess Ho Hos. Emotional junk food clogging hearts’ arteries echoing memories of ghosts that seem to be whispering silky reminiscence, reminding me like carpet stains where the dog peed. And it’s too bad you had to put her down. We all saw how much you liked having her around and now, while you’re piddlin’ round the house you might reach down, habitually. Might expect to see her jumpin’ up. Fuck, man we’ll all miss that pup. Like we miss times that were simple when life was just fact. A time when we were just teens boppin’ out back and making out by the train tracks. Buyin’ bitch beer, bitchin’ bout our hometown parent’s smelling sex on her prom gown. Wish we were smart, like she wishes she were pretty with titties that were bigger, wishes she were thinner. But we’re both emotional explosives strapped to a dead man Trigger happy jarheads, in bed with a pulled pin. Screaming like lunatics at a notebook with a loaded pen. The problem is that when you climb the belltower you can’t really tell one ant from the other, and you start to have a problem with friendly firing squads of dads and moms. Who applauded our responsibility, but now can’t seem to see; Why I use drugs? And now they’re disappointed. Because I gave up? And turned out as imperfect as they did. But we have fun! When we spend our days wasted and face down in a burning bush, that spoke to me in the basement. I’ll never forget the way she said it giggling that if I showed her mine, she’d show me hers. But first, a taste of wine. Not cheap wine. But red wine we stole from her mother. Not interested in house, this girl wanted to play lovers, so we slept like adults under Scooby Doo covers. And in a drug haze on some days, I remember how it felt, to be a kid with eyes glazed and gaze trained on a notebook, just trying to figure shit out. Me and my subconscious made pen-pals set to a sound track of rock albums. He was stranded in the desert when I found him a long lost, doubt wrought brother, I dug to recover in the folds of my Scooby Doo covers. ~Panda~ |