4am, day 2 of steroid/vincristine/slam week. I could get a lot more done if I could get a shower without waking everyone up. Let me say rht now, beoe I fogt, don ev buy a Micosof wreles keybord and mose, thy suck@! OK. I'll pay attention now. As I was saying, Barry Bonds week. I feel great, a little stomach ache but that's OK, throw some Tums into the pit and all is well. I'll go see the doc today for my monthly checkup and smack of vincristine. The numb fingertips and toes have never progressed beyond the tips, and I have compensated so that I hardly think about that unless I think about that.
All that poemerizing was awesome, felt like I was back at URI, or maybe a nice advanced care facility. Here is mine
Think that I am Barry Bonds
or maybe just a hopped up Fonz
give me yoga and tai chi
eight glasses of water
and then laugh and pee
4 am and nowhere to go
no wine no pot and no spiced ho
Cindy's kidney is now a pie
they got the cancer
stabbed it in the eye
threw it down and Abu Ghraibed it
now she don't have no more of that shit
Raise a glass of whatever you got
to Cindy's now departed part.
Sort of stream of conscience maybe, if I had one, or consciousness if I wasn't so often. Stream of consent? Stream of nonsense? Stream? Out of steam? So it would seem.
I worked about 15 hours this long weekend, digging up the turds of old bookkeepers. I hope to get through the archaeology phase of this job soon and move into new territory. Dana and Mike and I went to see the new XMen movie, it rocked. If you go, make sure to stay through the credits, there is a quick tickler at the end.
The house is not progressing much, I think they nailed up five boards last week. Hmmmmm. Dana keeps doing a circular dance with the windows/doors/rough openings/contractor/kitchen designer/dishwasher left or right. She is losing patience, but she has one of the most bitchingest second grade classrooms you ever did see, ask anyone. For a half-time teacher, she sure puts in some hours, like 40/week, and I don't think they are all just to get away from me and this house.
OK, gonna go get coffee now, then shave the weakass hair nubs off my head, take a cold shower in the backyard, pick splinters and nails out of my feet, put on California casual wear by some designer type that Dana bought me so I don't look too much like my father at 75, and go to work, driving the gals that work for me crazy by tearing up their old job descriptions which they never had and giving them new ones. All that by 8:45 am. We're gonna need lots more poemry, because all I do now is work, and I can't blog about that too much.
I had leukemia but now it's gone
with Cindy's kidney to the great beyond
I now have chemo
like Barry Bonds
'cept I have a conscience
and he has a pond
This job and house are now killing me
but this too shall pass, just wait and see
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Man I can't believe yer actually asking for more poemry. Well hotdamn sumbitch, here ya go.
ReplyDeleteIs a shower in the yard hard?
How bold, and cold, for the old to hold a hose in hand
In La-La land
Near beach and sand
Where paper plates and plasticware
And men sans hair in their yards stand bare
Where kitchens vanish and contractors, tannish
Wave their tools in disguise
As though the new will soon arise
But alas we see a new-born John
Fot the white-hat John is long ago gone
If only numbness at the end or your digits
Is all you have after all those widgets
They've tied you to and poked at you
It's Bond you are indeed by far
And if others were you I can envision them folding
Or even holding a farewell dinner
As they got thinner
But not for John
As he's Da Man
Must we ask what has come
Of the pink HEPA mask
So there you are a brand new life
In "the soft comfort of the wife"
You've won your bid
To "snuggle into a kid
And smell... his head"
And as you have written in this blog that you missed the "cool fur of the dog"
So back to work and life you go
You've left us all with more to know
Of life and challenge and hard resolve
But what the hell
We all evolve
But not like you John
It's been a real ride and you have been a pleasure and an inspiration to watch.
Mac
Mac,
ReplyDeleteI see you've left everyone speechless with your 'poemry'. I don't normally write in but thought you should know that I, for one, found it very touching....
Anonymous kin
I was so speechless I couldn't even think of the word for it--so, glad a usually silent kin named it for us.
ReplyDeleteMac, you have us gabby ones shuttin' up, the anonymous coming forward and me sending back my poemic license.
blew me away how fast you could show
that you were actually LISTENING the whole time and REMEMBERED--are you sure you're a man?
Yeah, go Mac!
ReplyDeleteHugs,
D.
P.S. I particularly enjoyed the image of the tanned contractors waving their tools.
We must give credit where credit is due. I simply cannot think or write enough of how utterly impressed I am with John Da Man.
ReplyDeleteJohn, if tragedy ever hits me or someone close to me, I'll think of you first as I try to find that elusive inner core that needs to be called upon and put into action when or if the shit hits the fan.
You're a star buddy.
Mac
Ok, I admit, I do not understand. What exactly did you mean by "turds of old bookkeepers"? I have been puzzling over this since this post appeared. However, I did not want to apppear ignorant and thought surely Mac or Pat would post something that would shed some illumination on the subject. Guess I am the only dumshit out here. Or I am an old bookkeeper and did something bad out in your yard that I don't remember...
ReplyDeletedon't count on me, Lisa--I don't actually read the stuff, I just comment.
ReplyDeletebut I know it can't be about you...the clue being "old"...c'mmmooooooooon