Posted by susan47 on June 6, 2006, at 19:13:54
In reply to poem ... Tyrannosaurus Meds, 1997, posted by Atticus on July 29, 2004, at 11:14:06
> Tyrannosaurus Meds, 1997
>
> Six tons of angry super-predator
> Hurl themselves
> At full speed
> Down five flights
> Of apartment stairs,
> Clawed three-toed feet
> Splintering the worn wooden steps,
> Twelve-inch teeth gnashing
> At imagined foes
> And tearing chunks
> From the greasy
> Graffiti-covered plaster
> That clings to the walls
> By sheer force of habit.
>
> It thunders
> Into the lobby
> With glittering red-rimmed
> Eyes
> As cold and hard and indifferent
> As granite, but,
> Incongruously,
> The color
> Of a pale blue spring sky.
> Battle-scarred hide, dark as black leather,
> Stretches across its back.
> It surveys the shimmering promise
> Of the nightscape
> Beyond the door,
> Then bursts from
> Its lair
> Onto the sidewalk
> To hunt.
>
> Pain and fury
> Drive it forward.
> Pedestrians swerve abruptly
> To avoid
> Any contact
> With the charging
> Beast.
> Its reptilian brain
> Roils with words,
> Hated words
> That fuel its rampage.
> Nonsense words
> That sound
> Like they were penned
> By Dr. Seuss.
> Paxil
> Zoloft
> Prozac
> Xanax
> Lorax.
> All have failed
> To stop
> The creature's
> Gruesome mutation
> From man to monster,
> From lover to stranger,
> From friend to foe.
>
> Blasting into McGinty's
> Liquor store,
> It snatches
> A bottle
> Of Jack Daniels
> From a shelf
> Without pausing in
> Its ominous advance
> Toward the counter,
> Slapping a bill
> Onto the surface,
> Its nails clacking
> On the Lucite,
> Before turning
> And stalking out
> Without waiting
> For change.
>
> It's heading for
> The little park
> Over the FDR Drive
> To snarl and roar
> In accompaniment
> To the herd of traffic
> Racing relentlessly past
> Below.
> The thing
> Dumps half a bottle
> Of Xanax
> Into
> Its steaming gullet,
> Washing the pills down
> With the whiskey,
> Pausing,
> Then wolfing
> Down the rest
> Of the pharmacological
> Carcass as well.
> It chugs the booze,
> Pacing,
> The spikes of hair
> Crowning its head
> Tingling,
> Feeling
> Like defensive spines
> Against anticipated attackers.
>
> The animal sways,
> Seeks the solid support
> Of a tree trunk,
> Calming,
> The trios of bony sickles
> On each of its feet
> Blurring together
> Into leather-covered
> Steel-toed boots.
>
> It thinks of its wife, of Alyssa, now,
> Her eyes rheumy
> With tears
> And exhaustion,
> Curled up
> In a red beanbag chair
> Held together
> By silvery strips
> Of duct tape,
> And it wishes
> She were as easy
> To repair.
> This can't go on,
> The tyrannosaur muses,
> I'm killing both of us,
> It has to stop.
>
> The beast hurls the liquor bottle
> Against a wooden park bench,
> Hearing it shatter
> With a satisfying medley
> Of exploding glass
> And splashing whiskey.
> The same bench
> Where it and Alyssa
> Used to sit
> And read
> The Sunday Times,
> Passing pieces
> Back and forth,
> And chasing stray pages
> Snatched
> By the winds
> That come
> Off the East River
> Before weighting
> The restless newsprint
> With ragged chunks
> Of concrete
> Collected from the edges
> Of the crumbling block
> Into which
> The bench is anchored.
>
> The reptile regards
> The jagged glass edge
> Ringing the broken bottle's neck,
> Dimly sensing a solution
> To everything
> From within
> The primordial soup
> Of benzos and liquor
> That further fogs
> A brain
> Already awash
> In a biochemical miasma
> It doesn't comprehend.
>
> "What's happening to me?"
> It croaks sibilantly,
> Holding the tubular shard
> In its right hand
> And turning it slowly, slowly
> In the dim and fluttering light
> Of a lamp post
> That seems as worn
> And battered
> As the dinosaur itself.
>
> A thought rises
> Like the first wisp
> Of smoke
> From a fire,
> Finding shape
> In a single word:
> Extinction.
> The t-rex touches
> The protruding point of
> The jagged crystal
> To its left wrist,
> Feeling the weight
> Of the cool glass
> On bare skin,
> Considering,
> Then lets the
> Bottle's neck
> Slip from its fingers
> And tumble to the trampled
> Browning grass
> Beside the bench.
> Not tonight, it thinks,
> Not just yet.
>
> It stumbles through the door
> Into the apartment
> And Alyssa's embrace.
> I don't deserve her,
> Thinks the tyrannosaur,
> I don't deserve her at all.
> "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry,"
> The monster says,
> Kissing her
> Over and over,
> Until it allows the pills
> And the Jack
> To finally overtake it,
> Sliding to the ground,
> Clutching her legs
> Like a child,
> Thinking that
> Wooden floorboards
> Never felt
> So luxurious.
> -- Atticus
Atticus is also magnificent .. I hope he doesn't mind but I've sent it to self at work and will post on the board, it's very appropriate there really truly.
poster:susan47
thread:372006
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20060523/msgs/653796.html