Saturday, April 21, 2018

Doing Lines 1

I’ve written a lot of stuff over the years. You could call part of it lyrics or poetry or spoken word with some short stories thrown in and a movie script of two for good measure. Some of it was good and some of it not so good. Okay, some of it was utter crap. Since I’ve done nothing with the vast majority of it I decided to draw out a line or two from here and there and put them to good use. This is especially good for the junk that never seemed to work quite the way I wanted it to. At least some good will come of it. If you’re thinking “Didn’t Henry Rollins do something like this once?” my answer is yes. Yes he did. What’s your point? His version was intentionally written to be very brief. My version is taken from larger pieces and I call it Doing Lines. We'll see if this leads anywhere.

My pockets are full of empty promises.

The youth are unfulfilled. Their minds never tested.

He was assuming the form of the dead.

I said hello. She asked me how much money I make.

His father stole his money and changed his phone number to unlisted.

She once threw a knife in my general direction.

His cousin never picked him up. His uncle never answered the phone.

I was divorced. She was married. There was something between us.

She never told me she had a boyfriend.

I was too old for her anyway.


Now I can’t remember her last name.

My Mom re-used the film. Now her picture is gone.

Your rights were violated yet you’re the guilty victim.

Sunken eyes stare at the page.

Hold on, don’t leave me again.

TV and the radio became my best friends when I moved into town.

Criminals walk free in our government.

Why don’t you get drunk and be somebody.

Sitting alone on the couch laughing at private jokes.

Nerds have more fun.

Our youth are under siege by the demon heavy metal.

Just remember, you chose them over us.

You wonder why I think the way I do.

You wonder why I act the way I do.

You got the looks, you got the dough.

I’m spending another Christmas alone.

Written and Published by Don Leach. May not be used without permission from the author.

No comments: