The Edge of Oblivion
Three twenty something ladies straddle a wilted lawn chair...
One sits on the opposite of the other, like it were some teetering helter skelter on a playground of their youth...
The third sits in the middle and each of the women laugh at the slightest inflection of the other out on the frosty grass at near midnight...
"...Tell me, what the fuck does he know about whether my arts sophomoric or not?...
He's just a fucking old has-been from Loser'sville, Connecticut..."
They have a loose demeanor, and the black haired beauty in the middle of the chair leans Into the night sky as she rattles her tongue at her compatriots...
She's there but not quite here...
She wears a striped sweater that drops away from the naked flesh of her left shoulder...
The randy college party house in front of their charade blasts tunes that
Aim to satisfy the majority of the shell-shocked partygoers...
It spells out drones of general acceptance and the thrill of tittilating
Anticipation for further unveilings
Of reckless abandon...
The blonde on the far left gapes into the open door of the party house like she's staring into A howling crater in her mind...
The noise that's arising is so repetitive it's akin to
Long Press-on nails tapping a meaningless ditty over the insect shell of computer keys,
Or the on/off of a turn signal flexing...
Now the blonde tugs at her necklace
In a moment of existential indifference...
It's a small and a modest
Silver slab of nothing...
She swears that it resembles what
She thinks about herself most times,
But that's not her tonight...No...
Tonight she's someone else who's
Wild and free monicker
Has earned a new
Badge on the trophy table
Of these unsavory neanderthals...
There's not a thing in her way now
But herself
Because her boyfriend bopped her
Best friend...
The boyfriend's(Dustin's) pal is the host of this
Soirée...
The three women talk loudly from the strength of their drinks...
They talk loudly to convince themselves they are at a party, and
It's night, and they are young...
They talk loud and unbecoming, like a belch in a mess hall, and a
Pro Magnon Alpha Jock
Steps out onto the stage of the shadowy front porch to heed their call,
His identity swathed in a canopy of gloom...
"Hey, are you all freezing your little asses off out here? There's like a keg and real
Live people inside in case you missed the memo..."
The three ladies words pile up on each other like a greased Totem Pole of
Missed cues, and the Jock laughs and
Waves them over to share a smoke on the rotted porch
So he can try his magic on these displaced party favors of the night...
In the morning they'll be promptly shoved back out the front door
Like the casualty that they've become...
Smeared lipstick, and their colors run as they cry from little
Foresight of the night before...
On the edge of oblivion...
The end of Innocence....
And the sounding of the Gong...
The three ladies disappear into the ether
Adieu!...Until another fateful night...
In the evening the six Frat Boy will be back out on the front porch
As the hail whips around like ammunition...
Their phones ring off the hook with tips to go down into the basement
As a tornado tears through their humble town...
5/8/24
Bunny Villaire
I don’t want to be fragile
Your dad is so strong
I hate being the one that cries
in the doctors office as they speak.
I don’t want the tissues or the tears but they come anyways.
Why do I crumble?
I need to be stronger
for you it’s true.
I tell myself this in the mirror before appointments
don’t break don’t break
but for some reason I do.
And when it comes it pours as if I hold it all in.
Once we get to the doctors and they tell us bad news suddenly I can’t bare to stay strong. But your dad stands tall he looks at you with a smile. But I let it out a cry like I’m unburdening my soul
but it’s not good for you
this I know, I’ll get better soon
I must get it together
and be strong like your father