Closer:Poetry & Prose

 
The closer I get to death, the better.
The closer I get to suicide, the better.
The closer I get to the bottom, the better.
The closer I get to the end, the better.
For that is where the pain will end.
Please allow me to update you on my marvelous career.  Things were going just fine working as a janitor at a bookstore.  Then I walked into the men's room, to clean it, and it hit me: the smell.  It was a bad smell.  I checked the toilets.  Sure enough, one of them was filled with poop soup.  It was so f*cking gross.  I began to gag.  Tears streamed down my face.  What could I do?  I flushed it: hoping it wouldn't overflow.  It didn't, but the noxious mess didn't go down.  I kept flushing it, as I kept gagging with tears rolling down my unremarkable face.  What if I have to plunge it?!  What if some of it splashed onto me as I was doing that?  Fortunately, I made some progress with my flushes.  Finally, after several flushes, it was gone.  But, not surprisingly, the toilet had been annihilated with poop stains.  Lucky me, it was my job to clean it, which led to more gagging and tears.
That wonderful assignment ended.  I was merely filling in for a man that cleans bathrooms 7 days a week.  I'd rather be homeless or dead.  My job developer got me another cleaning job.  I wasn't at all excited about it.  First of all, it was quite a long drive away.  I accepted it anyway.  He took me to my first night there.  I soon learned it would be my responsibility to clean 4 buildings for a company that manufactures bricks or something like that.  The place was filthy.  Floors needed to be mopped, carpets needed to be vacuumed, and toilets needed to be cleaned.  I would spend at least 2 and a half hours working there that night, but I knew pretty early on that I didn't want that shitty job.  On the way back, my job developer and I didn't talk much at all.  I wanted to wait until we were in the parking lot of my apartment building.  Just before getting out of his jeep, I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't want this job."  He said, "Yeah, I figured that."
I'd rather be homeless or dead than clean other people's shit out of toilets. 
          

Let's Go to the Beach!

The kiss

Bumpkin, her sisters (Lucinda and Sloopy), and I were enjoying a quiet morning in our apartment.  We were watching TV, and we were looking at a beach.  Neither of the sisters had ever seen such a thing. 
"Yo, dummy," said Bumpkin.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.
"Is there anything like that around here?"
"Sure.  The ocean isn't very close, but we live near Lake Ontario."
"Is there a beach there?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good, we're going," declared Bumpkin.  Sloopy and Lucinda squealed with delight.
"Great idea, Mistress Bumpkin," I said.  I'll pack lunch and other things we might need: like sunscreen."
"What is sunscreen?" asked Bumpkin.
"Well, it's not something you, Sloopy, and Lucinda need to worry about, because your skin is covered with fur, which protects you from the sun's harmful rays.  But people, like me, really need to put it on, so, hopefully, we won't get skin cancer."
"Whatever.  Hurry up.  We're all ready to go," said Bumpkin.
"Yes, ma'am."  I got off my duff and got busy.  I packed a nice lunch for all of us and I didn't forget the sunscreen.  Then I took off my pajamas so I could change into my swimsuit.  While I was completely naked, the door to the bathroom opened.  Bumpkin, Lucinda, and Sloopy were all staring at  my nude body.  Then they all began to laugh hysterically.
Bumpkin briefly stopped laughing long enough to ask, "What the heck is that thing dangling between your legs?"
"First of all, Bumpkin, it's not nice to open the bathroom door, without knocking first, when someone is in there.  And that 'thing' is called a penis."
They all laughed harder now.  Sloopy and Lucinda were rolling around on the floor.
"First of all, dummy, I do whatever I want, whenever I want to, and if you  have a problem with that, I'll hit your little penis with a fireball," replied Bumpkin, which led to more laughter.  Tears of joy were streaming down the faces of Sloopy and Lucinda.
"Yes, ma'am."
"It is so ugly," said Bumpkin.
"Even though it is a part of me, I simply must agree with you.  I think penises are ugly too."
"What the heck do you do with that thing?" asked Bumpkin.
"Well, I use it to go pee pee, and it also can be used to make babies."
"How?  How does that thing make babies?"
I sighed heavily.  "I'll tell you on the way to the beach, okay?"  Holy cow.  I don't have any kids, so I never thought I'd have to explain to anyone where babies come from.  I certainly never fathomed that I'd need to explain it to a groundhog.  I never signed up for that: no, sir.

TO BE CONTINUED...