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Are You Happy? Scott W. Hazzard
We recount the past; roll up the razor wire.
In the errant shade of lazy summer,
We strive… we lie upon the still grass,
The mane of God, the sheath of Hell…
In this where are we?
Are we on a honeymoon beach, nondescript waves of sand?
Are we off kilter with airsick feeling, traveling high above
America, Nebraska, Mexico, in that whole surreal spell of travel
Or did we ever get out of suburbia?
Did we ever beat our coming bellies and our patio furniture?
Did we sit idle by roadsides, building swing sets for the kids?
Did we change the diapers, change the oil, change the vacuum cleaner bags?
Is this where we are now?
It’s time to take down the fences, I said.
You know how many dreams slept away
Brushed underneath the overgrowth from
The seed of “I do”.
Do we say that this is living—
Life on the ground, like the grass?
Do you find her bland and stifled by the mower
And the push for esthetics?
Or do you find her bland, a rough hide?
Do you want to rip her open now,
Take up the sharp blade of “I never wanted this” now,
Spill the blood of the familiar and maybe gut the family
Finances to buy a cheap airline ticket back…
Back to Nebraska? Back to Mexico?
Back to the birth of our love in America?
The aged alabaster statue of your chosen life has fallen on you,
And the primal wars of indecision have long since past,
Spear embedded, beds on fields forever peopled and abandoned.
Cut your loses? Cut and run? Cut off your own leg to crawl away?
Or know the faces forever more,
That you will live with,
That you will die with.
That lie with you now awaiting your answer.
READER'S REVIEWS (4) DISCLAIMER: STORYMANIA DOES NOT PROVIDE AND IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR REVIEWS. ALL REVIEWS ARE PROVIDED BY NON-ASSOCIATED VISITORS, REGARDLESS OF THE WAY THEY CALL THEMSELVES.
"This poem says what a big smelly fart never could, but as always aspired to." -- Bob The Drunken Janitor.
"You're too good for Storymania. Get out now." -- Bennett.
"Scott Hazzard got kicked off Oneonta radio for telling a caller, "you make the baby Jesus cry" while he played the sound effect of a baby blatting. After that, he played the sound of a hand slapping and cut the baby sound, then said, "shut up! Stupid, loud kids!" Scott has no soul, you see. Thus, he'll never be allowed on Christian radio again. If you see this man, kick him in the balls." -- Scott Hazzard.
"you are not persecuted, you're young; grow up." -- help.
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