trapped on a bus with a retarded monologist
each thought that creeps thru his beer addled brain
he utters
each place he sees thru the bus window
has an anecdote
i ate there once
poofter
he affects a fake irish accent
wank- uhhh
does bits from movies
from an interview with ole hank
who are your three favorite authors
charles bukowski
charles bukowski
and charles bukowski
what do you think about hemingway
i dont think about hemingway
opens another beer and offers me one
why not then?
i dont like that beer
fuggin pooftah
i ask him who hes talking to
he says himself
because its a free country
he defiantly sings a few verses of a springsteen tune
waits for a comment
gets stony silence
more thoughts run through his mind that have to be shared with the world
or at least the bus
seems like he wants to argue with someone
anyone
someone notice me
notice me
i try not to
the bus ride mercifully ends before a fistfight
poke me with a stick twenty times and i may ignore it
twentyone times
you are taking chances
like the patient lion father
as the cub chases his tail
wrestles it
for hours
all of a sudden the cub is a pinwheel
spinning and tumbling
wondering what the license plate was on that truck that just whacked him
the retarded monlogist is lucky on this day
lucky that the others who have recently been poking at me with sticks did not hit the magic number
lucky that today is not one of those days when i just feel like punching someone in the face
lucky that my rage filled days of walking around, fuse lit, waiting for saturday or tuesday or thursday are in the past
knowing that if i can wait for some rugby it will work itself out
naturally
joyously
sharing my gift of violence with the world that created it
with other inhabiatants
who helped me heal
my rage counsellors
absorbing my rage in the form of contusions bumps and bruises
doing a great service to the world
keeping me out of jail
keeping me a productive member of society
but rugby is about movement
and i dont move so well anymore
my feet are stuck in molasses
and i was becoming a target instead of a sharpshooter
a reciever instead of a giver
i dont mind sharing pain
and im a very generous giver
but im far too modest to accept the huge helpings of pain they generously want to give me for my years of service
no, no you are too too kind
ill just step aside
watch for a bit
if my body tells me its time to play again i will listen too it
right now its saying no no no

they tried to put me in the rugby
i said no no no

they said that i was fast
but i am slow slow slow

they said id miss the game
but my rage is feeling tame

they tried to get me in the rugby
i say no no no

i said im never scrum again
but that dont, that dont eaase the pain

theyd show up at my door with a cuppa coffee
an hour before kickoff
and im off
bottle in bag
sufficiently angry from the booze
hype from coffee
trying to regain the rage edge
the rage edge that was once so natural
i could be mad at anyone
for any reason
friggin commie irish bastards
oh you want to play ruff ehhh?
i can bite too
darn green shirt dudes
it was easy
and accessible
but my rage circuts must have burnt out or something
like a cokefiend with no dopamine receptors left
id do a line and nothing
id do a line out and nothing
trying to find the rage

so im out on the field
and theyre all ten to twenty years younger than me
theyre playing rugby with a dinosaur
fatasuarous rex
rageasaur rugby
primitive fun
pleistocene rugby club
gonna fire up the tee shirt factory
buy fifty of these from me at 10 bucks a pop and ill come play for your team
they paid the dude who retired me to come here and play
so to get me out of retirement it'll cost someone
they were paying an international rugby prop
im an intergalactic prehistoric rugby prop
that seems like more of a premium prop to buy the service of
call my agent buy the shirts set up the date with my social secretary lets work out a deal on the video rights and see if angelina jolie can make it and we are on
and by the time all that happens ill be in shape
starting now
with my date with the woodpile
those puny logs think they can beat me?
hmmrrrrgggghhhhh
graaaaaa
goooooshhhhhhh