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post #167
bio: chris
perma-link
4/14/2005
00:20

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Previous Posts
On Sting (and other crap)
Things I Say to My Dad, Because (like myself) He Thinks, Irrationally, He's Going to Die Soon
Why Hipstamatic Was Invented
Happy Mother's Day, Y'all
Black Pear Tree (Guest Post from John Darnielle)
Serendipity






Shush, Honey. We're Rushin' to Beat the Band
You hit me with KFC, but you're a vegetarian. There was fried chicken and cole slaw and daddies who never knew. Daddies who had a clue you were vegetarian, but never knew you ate seafood on the side.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


I told you to dress in leather and dark red lipstick. You didn't ask any questions and gratefully sang back-up, all the while filing my hair and stroking my ego. This was my night and you would not let it fail.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


They cheered for me and never gave you a second thought. All the while I silently thought of you and never cheered. The background belonged to you in the dark. That was yours. The black barren branches and the purple detritus of decaying leaves. Your roots lay firmly in the soil, and day-hikers never see what grows underground.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


And I left you there to rot.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.

You rose again in the form of a sky-blue thong peeking through the back of black zipper-backed jeans at a time when the whole town was snowed in. I was stuck at your house. You were stuck in my face. My car wasn't goin' anywhere. How could I?

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


We shaved your head and burned its remains in an oil-lamp candle. You signed your name in permanent marker on the ass of my jeans. We burned that, too. Daddy heard it. Mommy heard it, too. In the morning, we all made eggs and coffee and shared a good laugh.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


We caught airplanes bound for St. Louis. We filled a Minivan full of shit and trucked it to New York City. We drove a beat-up 1987 Mercury Topaz to Amherst and met up with the boyfriend we would all end up trading for girlfriends.

We didn't make that trip together. Any of us. Instead, we left friendships to fester into dandelions and lovers repeat as peat moss. We left grandparents to die and history to be repeated in lectures without a class.

But that was our time.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


Shut up. Don't say that. Don't ever say that again.

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


What band? What rush? What are you talking about?

Where is everybody going? What the hell are we rushin' to? I don't have anywhere to go after this!

Shush, honey. We're rushin' to beat the band.


If you weren't dead to me, you'd say something else.

Please say something else.

Shush, honey...

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· The World/Inferno Friendship Society