every potzer has a story

i remember when we were shining youths. seniors, sofmores, shined like the sun. shimmering in the hot resevoir sun. we are going to turn to gold when we graduated. lawyers, doctors, lovers, poets, the rest of high society's seats would be filled with hatters and kays and duestches and sullivans. we could hold the world in our palm and swallow it for all it was worth.

we were gods and heroes from better climates in a place where we could still breathe the air, see the stars, watch mountains tumble beneath our glare. colleges and careers awaited smiling eyes shining hopes over mountian ranges filled with the wasted lives around us. it was all ours to be better with.

then the end of school, times got tough and most of us fixed cars worked the liquor stores, sacked groceries moved south to warmer ways and got in car wrecks with life DWIs, MIPs, public intox, nights spent in drunk tank, then a baby a daughter a jail sentence and it seemed our light ran dim. the candles were all at half mast. years and years we're marreied having kinds, having kids not married can't find our children can't find anything except a forty and a cheap bottle of bourbon, a needle for some, speedballs pathologcial liars lost in mental crash waves in asylums wasting away forgetting what we dreamt of. one took his life, one's lungs collapsed a few in jail a few in the army and all of them kids they never knew, didn't want to know.

we used to fight for the honor of women and protect our ideals. our signatures meant something. we gave our word and it was law. now a paycheck gone in a day up our noses down our throats prostitutes and waking nightmares. how did we ewver lose our sentience? and still now, waiting twenty-four twenty-five thirty all worn out tired of life tired of waiting for a better ship to come our way. we fix air conditioners and still go rafting with the college kids but none of us are in college anymore flunked out failed out passed out walked through misty eyes wobbley footed.

but i remeber when we shined brighter than the sun and told stories and cried aloud. we could fix it all. we could make things real and pure again. the heroes came home with me. the heroes rode home on an empty bus to an empty town who didn't care and then forgotten. we were gods then.

2002-09-24 | 6:02 p.m.
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