Finally, the day after Thanksgiving

you will watch the Macy’s Parade
and stare at the ridiculous balloons
before you sit down for the
Banquet-brand microwaveable meal
of turkey and dressing
alone
and then watch football
until you pass out in your recliner
before nine o’clock
your misery held at bay by
pointless ritual performed in a trance

there was no time to kill yourself today
but there will be plenty of time tomorrow
and you can make it look like an accident
so your few friends won’t know
the depths you’ve plumbed
while they said grace and told jokes
and broke bread together

when you wake up you will get dressed
and go to the Wal-Mart
where you will intentionally cut the line
for the Black Friday sales
skipping ahead of people who
slept on cold sidewalk to get a computer
and there will be anger
and this is Wal-Mart
which caters to a certain clientele and
you will be threatened and shoved and
eventually shot by an irate man who
brought his toddler children to camp out
because he wants a cheap Xbox that bad

it will hurt so much that you’ll beg him
to shoot you again but
his kids will be scared and screaming
and someone will tackle him
but as you lose more blood
the pain will recede and
you’ll lose consciousness
before the paramedics arrive
secure in the knowledge that
something you planned
finally turned out right

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About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in best-laid plans, despair, poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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