Loneliness |
Damn, those water puddles look good enough to dive in. It is something about the rain. I dont know if it was because it came down in big drops or that it seemed to all accumulate in the puddle before my eyes. Well, it wasnt exactly right in front of me, but beyond the front door of my home. All I know it was a lot of water. It could be at least a half a foot deep in some places in that puddle. I am going to need to get a board to throw across it. That way I way I wont get wet when going down the steps. No matter. I have all night for that. What a great way to end a day. It had to rain. Nothing better than a few hours of rain to kill the mood. I wanted to see the old man today. He always gave good advice. It seemed to be anyway. My day at work was one of the worst recently. The chickens were not cooperating at all. First they would lay eggs, then they wouldnt. Damn those chickens. Well, I am home now. Jerry is playing in the background and the smoke is in the air. He was jamming throughout Going Down the Road Feeling Bad. Man if he was feeling bad, I sure wasnt. The smoke from the pipe seemed to make my eyes dance with the rain as the music was coming to a close. Ah, the rain. It didnt have to slow up for me. I was in no hurry. Let it come to me. Let them come to me. The old man. He was a good old man. The only problem I cant remember his damn name at the moment. I always had to visit him, he never traveled anywhere. Maybe because the doctors never took that ridiculous jacket off him. It was a cool jacket though. It made him look like he was hugging himself all the time. His roughly trimmed beard made him look like a diplomat amongst all the other politicians that stayed in the hospital. Thats what he called the crazy people around him. Politicians. I never thought that all politicians stayed in one place dressed in white. It was very unique in a way. I got to meet Ronald Reagan one day. He was a tall man. Liked to bark. It seemed he would bark a lot louder for his size. But oh well. I have to set this pipe down. The old man would yell at me as he rolled around on his back in the so-called rubber room. His life was grand. He was the smartest of all politicians. He could always give a good speech to all his colleagues after the doctors fed him his treats in a bottle. His life was large compared to anything. Even the Milky way couldnt contain his greatness. I remember in one of his speeches where he was spinning in circles on the floor. I can hear him now saying....... The Milky way galaxy is an ordinary galaxy comprised of chocolate, caramel, nougat, and the occasional smell of methane coming from Uranus. Ah, the galaxy. What a thought. I wish I could float away. Get away from those damn chickens. Go into space. Listen to the sound of oncoming asteroids and planets. Whoa, Jupiter has a big red spot. I guess thats what you get when you dont have safe sex. That reminds me of chickens though. Those bastard chickens. All day long just buc-buc-bucking. What type of system of communication is that!?! Ill wring their necks one day. But one thing about chickens, they have very nice feathers. Those beaks are awful sharp though. That gives me a thought. A chicken beak sewing machine. If you got hit with that beak though, it could draw blood. It was getting darker outside. The rain seemed to come in waves. I had to sit down. One more draw from my pipe should finish me. I guess Ill place it on the oak table next to my chair. This rocking chair couldnt support me and my head. That little pipe did wonders for a bad day. Too bad those chickens dont smoke pipes. They could learn to relax. Sort of like the old man in his box-like room. I like listening to the rain. I should close my door though. Those damn flies keep coming and landing on my steak sandwich. Ill just sit here and vegetate. I wasnt feeling bad now. Jerry was wrong. He was sort of like the old man. Not wrong, but he had a beard that was untamed. That old man always had me thinking of something cool. If you consider it cool though. I wont worry about now. Let the door be open to bring more of those flies in. Like the old man said..... Never put off things you can do next week. Kind of hard for me to comprehend that one. I like the ring to it though. I guess maybe it had to with relaxation. That makes me wonder, do chickens relax? The politicians in the hospital seem to relax in their rooms. Chickens always seem to be in their own little worlds. It all revolves around them. They dont need money. They get everything free. It must be cool to be a chicken. Id hate to stay those cages though. Kind of tight and cramped. What do chickens care anyway? They will soon be leaving their confines. Not like the politicians though. Man, does my head feel heavy. That pipe did its magic again. That old man never seemed to relax. Every time I went to see him he would always be on the prowl. Kind of like predator after its prey. I wonder if he would ever relax after those shocks they gave him. He did say.... Excruciating pain really hurts. I like the dark. Inside my home or out. Darkness seems to hide the pain. I wonder if those chickens feel pain when I reach for their eggs. I mean do they know I am taking their young away from them. It doesnt matter anyway. Their beaks bring too much pain to my hands. I wish I wasnt always so relaxed after a smoke session. I could do something productive in my life. Maybe join the military. Become a warrior amongst warriors. Do battle against all the evil politicians and evil chickens that haunt my dreams late at night. There are drawbacks to a military life though. That old man told me.... Military life can be lonely, just ask my imaginary friends. He sounded right. I mean you can trust someone you love. Even though the door to the room is locked while the doctors perform their exercises on him. He seemed lonely at that point. A great man waiting to be released. At least the chickens had the comfort of not knowing when they would be released. Those damn chickens. Peck-peck-pecking. Buc-buc-bucking. They are never lonely. Their friends are the feeders and other chickens. These chickens were different though. They wore white like the politicians at the hospital. I wonder how they tell each other apart. I guess it doesnt matter if your a chicken. My steak sandwich is history. The flies had a field day on it before my neighbors dog came in and ate it. I wonder what Jerry would do then? I guess he will continue his song about some guy in Tennessee named Jed. Why would the dog tell him to go back to Tennessee? Oh well, it doesnt matter. My neighbors dog, Spanky, came in when he wanted. He always seemed to eat my food. I wonder how a dog would taste? The old man mentioned something of this... If all dogs were named Rover, then I would have no trouble telling my neighbor his dog tasted good with mustard. That was sort of strange from an old man who wore a jacket that was a little too straight. I couldnt eat any dog. Unless of course that dog was a roadkill. No one seemed to want that dog. You dont go into a pet shop looking into a glass window and say, Give me the dead one in the back. Of course they wouldnt sell you a dead dog unless it had all of its shots. The old man seemed to get too many shots. He was the only politician that received more than the rest. I guess he received preferential treatment over the others. Those chickens dont get shots. I wonder why. Chickens have their own personalities like everyone else. I guess it doesnt matter. I think I can see the moon now. The only thing is the rain still falls slowly upon my tin roof. The moon doesnt always dance back and forth through my window though. Maybe Jerry can help me on the bootleg tape in the player. It may be that dark star he is singing about. Knock..knock..Is anyone home? I hear something at the door. I didnt order anything. Hey I know that guy. Its my neighbor Bob. Hey Bob, come on in! I yelp from my chair. Bob likes my home. He doesnt wear white like the politicians or those damn chickens. He comes into my home with Spanky on his leash. My word does that dog smell. Must be the rain. Hey Luke, have you seen my wife? I mean she should have been home hours ago. asked Bob. I thought he said something about his wife. I hope he doesnt see her under my bed. I mean her gags should muffle any sound coming from upstairs. Bob looked a little wet today. Must be the rain. He was a little taller than me, but of course I am sitting down. He would kick my ass if he knew that his wife liked being tied under my bed. Oh well, it doesnt matter. Sorry Bob. I havent seen her today. Would you like a steak sandwich? I asked. Bob loves steak sandwiches. Maybe because it has something to do with him being a butcher. Hey, but butchers wear white too. I wonder if he knows anything about chickens or politicians. Bob reminded me of that saying the old man said one time.... Beef jerky was made to eat, but it looks better hanging from your mantle with other slabs of meat. Thats okay, Luke. If you see my wife tell her ass better get home soon! replied Bob. Bob left. He forgot to close the door. Well, there are way too many flies around anyway. Let the flies have their fun. Ill just puff my pipe again as Jerry sings about how hes gone. I wonder who is gone. Bobs wife? The old man? The chickens? Bob? Oh, well it doesnt matter.The moon vanished as soon as Bob turned off his flashlight to leave. I guess I should let Bobs wife go. She has had enough fun for now. I wonder if that old man would let something go. Hell, he cant go anywhere anyway. Like those damn chickens. Those damn chickens. Too many to count. Too many to look at. The old man told me once.... Chickens come and go kind of like the way the warden does when he locks your cell. Ive had enough about those chickens. Let them all go to hell. At least Bobs wife will stay. I mean shes all tied up with no place to go. Kind of like that old man. All dressed up with nowhere to go. How could this be? I mean I never been in a position where Ive been dressed up and said, Damn I have no place to go. Then why get dressed up in the first place. Bobs wife always liked to get dressed up. Flaunting herself. Strutting like one of those chickens at work. Just looking and cackling at everything around them. The old man at least got to do something. I could understand him. Even though his jacket was a little too straight. The rain seemed to stop. The flies went home. I guess to their wives. If flies had wives, do you think they would need to know where their wives were? Oh well, it doesnt matter. Ill go let Bobs wife go, its getting a little late. The old man used to tell me before he was let go.... Constipation is like the Liberty bell ringing with no sound. Something else I will never understand. Time to go upstairs. These stairs seem to be a little to steep tonight. Maybe it has something to do with that pipe. Oh well, it doesnt matter. Bobs wife will be happy to see me. She seemed to like me. Not like those damn chickens. They didnt like anyone. Bunch of peckers. I dont remember shutting my bedroom door though. Oh well, it doesnt matter. She will under my bed anyway. Im glad I left my knife upstairs. Im glad Bob didnt see it. He wouldnt understand. Like a damn chicken. Oblivious to everything. What a pecker. The door is locked. Thats strange. I wonder if Bobs wife knows about this. Thank God I have the key. There we go. In I go. Shes gone! Where did she go! Quick, what did my old man say..... The luxury of not knowing is about as good as knowing without the luxury of finding the answer. Doesnt make sense. I can never remember what it meant. The old man seemed to say it when he was stuck. But stuck in what? Knock..knock Damn, sure is busy tonight. Probably Bobs wife. She came to say good bye. I had that knife around here somewhere. Oh well, it doesnt matter. The moon seems to be shining in my home now. Jerry must have finished playing because of quietness down below the stairs. Oh no, Bob decided to sing something about women being smarter. Smarter than what though. I guess it doesnt matter. Ill see who is at the door. I wonder if the old man would come over to see me. I could tell a few things about the chickens. He could tell about his stay with the politicians. It would be nice. I can hear him say.... Politics is like shoveling shit, the longer you are into it the more you have on you. Political awareness. I guess that is what it means. There is no one at the door. Oh well, it doesnt matter. There sure is a lot of blue lights outside. That pipe makes you see things you dont normally see. Maybe I should go outside to see what the deal is. Where in the world did all these people come from? They wear blue. I guess a new form of politicians. Stand with your hands in the air! You have the right to remain silent..... came from a bull horn from a gentleman in blue behind a car door. Thats very interesting. I do have a right to remain silent. Why should I remain silent though. These blue gentlemen have made some mistake. Why should they point guns at me? The old man told me once.... Allow others to make mistakes so you can blame them for your stupidity. I will raise my hands to humor them, but I will not remain silent. They grabbed Luke and threw him to the ground. The handcuffs were locked as one man read him his rights. Bob hugged his wife. Man, these guys mean business. The braces on my wrist arent like those jackets, but maybe Ill get one when I get to see the old man. |