7 REASONS GRATITUDE IS A HORRIBLE WORD

It can’t sound

like anything but the lamest of platitudes

when exiting someone else’s mouth

(even when true).

One cannot will someone else’s gratitude.

It requires me to focus upon ants, daisies, and sunsets

instead of searching the skies for Clarence Odbody from It’s a Wonderful Life.

It does not beckon, appear like a beacon,

or saunter in on the arm of a muse.

Like exercise, and about as fun,

it requires practice and is never done.

Because a modicum of discontent is the fuel on which the artist feeds,

I must walk the razor’s edge between annoyance and despondency

to meet my needs and achieve productivity.

It is wickedly deceptive in its simplicity

and, quite frankly, that annoys me.

Because it always comes down to me,

and what I’m able and willing to see,

which can vary infinitely,

and I say this with just a scintilla of irony

TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE MEETS NORMAN ROCKWELL

 

photo 35 minutes

into a conversation to which I was only collateral damage,

weapons were drawn.

(Ghosts of mother figures at 10 paces!)

The most

sarcastic

controlling

                or guilt- ridden wins.

The Horror!

Ancient family underpinnings freed from

their moth-balled coffins and running the show, while the speakers merely rumbaed like marionettes

unaware the buttons being pushed

were installed decades before today

and came with a life-time factory warranty.

Witnesses turn away, run away or watch, either with the fascination reserved for the psychological profile of Lizzie Borden

or as if re- living their own drama trauma.

And the band plays on and on….

I guess our ancestors are never really gone. photo 5