The House on Tennesee Street

8 Mar

Too close to one of my worst years to be one of my best years

but it was certainly one of the liveliest,

most pivotal of my adulthood.

 

It was my reaction to a period of deep dissatisfaction.

My brother went off to fight in the war and

my professional mistakes bled into my personal life.

No longer certain of my purpose,

I reversed direction

and spent a year shirking responsibility–and delinquent payments—

taking a massive pay cut to sort things out

in a long overdue gap year.

My brain need a break and

my psyche needed to shut down.

 

I leaned into being in that small town.

Remaking Dangerfield’s “Back to School” in my head

and taking advice from Bill Lee and Bill Murray.

Back to square one.

I rediscovered my joy through play and paint:

 

kicking and shooting and passing and jumping and sweating,

smiling and laughing and dosing; popping and locking, ponging and bonging,

puffing and sipping, napping ,fapping, crapping and snacking

shagging and packing, slapping and stroking–and lounging in cut off shorts.

 

 

An unsustainable cycle

of coffee, cannabis, naps and payment plans.

I knew at my age that it couldn’t last.

Watching the time evaporate

like the smoke building inside my lungs

and the clouds blowing out of my bedroom window.

 

~Edward Austin Robertson

 

 

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One Response to “The House on Tennesee Street”

  1. bmick September 30, 2018 at 8:27 pm #

    Reblogged this on Nuclear Polio Vaccination.

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