3 Oct

Stumbled upon last week’s leavings
a result of too much Bacardi and
a failed attempt at acquiring a habit
(the one and only cigarette purchase I’d ever make)

There it was though;
the pieces of undigested wieners
mixed within the chunks of weird,
fuzz covered puke.
Not thinking I poured gasoline on it
and lit a match
only to see the flames climb
as high as the patio roof
licking the bottom of the ceiling.

Hose already in hand I flushed out the fire
before my aunt could turn around
from washing dishes in the sink.
A sure fire eviction avoided–but only barely.

Later that night,
while smoking with some friends in the backyard,
I lost it completely
when someone asked
about the smell of gasoline.
I doubled over and howled–
my body convulsing involuntarily from laughter.

“No seriously why does it smell like gas” he asked again.
I wiped the tears from eyes.
“Give me a minute man.
I’ll tell you when I get it together.”

~Edward Austin Robertson~

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