The first time was awful
By telephone is not cool
Written on my brothers face first
My coach is right
Older siblings carry a different emotional load
Take responsibility in ways I fail to notice
Rougher the second time
Embraced the suck premeditatively
More to lose, and saw it coming
The town folk had things to say to me
One circled my house honking
Shoveling my gravel driveway creep
Throwing it back onto my parking slip
Shouting expletives
Writing on the windows probably didn’t help
Driving to the edge of town.
Sleeping in my car.
The house started as a rat infested hole
The Monster house, dark greasy baseboards.
Who knew rats scurry against the baseboard?
Cages he left behind, littered the backyard.
Ivy choked the trees, rat tunnels everywhere.
I needed a break from fixing the house.
The small town needed a break from me too.
Drove south.
I was a mess at that point.
Running out of money. A drunk.
Calling the cousins was a smart move.
They’re weird enough that it was safe.
Let me be an oddity on their patio.
Every day for weeks.
Drinking in the morning.
Playing pool late into the night.
Then my toes got tan.
They gave me a number to call for work.
That kind of man style is rad.
Those boys are lucky.
A consistent chuckle, and then strangely…
Not a lick of advice.
Encouraged music.
Enthusiastic about media.
Generous.
Not a whisper of my flaws.
No passive aggressive baloney.
They could hear me come in at night.
Not remembering what they said about that.
I wonder if the dogs growled every time?
It mattered more that I was home.
Too much water use while washing dishes.
Seriously?!
Of all the failures I was practicing?
I guess that’s wild desert dwellers.
Couldn’t fail as a flying emotional heap.
But washing dishes was banned.
Gonna miss that warm deep chuckle.
Thankful.
Benjamin’s Writing Journey 