1 The first lesson in disappointment I remember was The Muppets Take Manhattan – or maybe The Great Muppet Caper – I waited half the movie for that Pegasus to come back, but it never did. 2 The fear of being anywhere was set aside while Nakatomi Tower was robbed, ghosts preferred their soup bland, the worm was just a worm. There’s no lesson, here, just a reminder of how wise I am to already know things. 3 It’s hard to trust people in the dark when you can’t trust them in the light, but they’re too distracted to see me wipe my cheeks when the monster I wish I was, doesn’t get its way. I’m a different kind of monster, entirely. 4 We. Lights up, we stumble out. I.
They tell us that the biggest thing to fear is entropy, that it hungers for the human heart as for chocolate after a wasted day. We must remain in flux once it catches our scent. Everything changes, no matter how hard you fight to keep it the same. It’s the fighting that draws the beast’s attention. The city is sad because it eats its children, all of them grown fat from neglect. Streetlights flash as though they’re trying to tell you something, but all they mean is go. Comfort isn’t something the asphalt understands, but you’re welcome to try to learn its language. If you want to taste tomorrow, put your face into the fire until all you see and smell are ashes. This will be the beginning.
That Eternal Farm Upstate Where All Our Dead Pets Live
There’s no reason to be ashamed if you break down at odd hours, remembering the lives you set aside in order to sulk in the dark. It wasn’t your fault. The great fingerprint in the sky put it’s dirty digit on your brain and shorted out the wiring. You did the best you could to see past the electric ants whose bellies never get full. Who the hell doesn’t wish they could redo some days? Accountants never get into heaven. At least there’s still a market for the robe makers. Someone in a funny hat, with a funny smile, someone who hasn’t worked a hard day in their not-hard lives. There’s no hand to take your coins, but what you wouldn’t give to run your fingers through that winter day’s soft fur one more time.
Raised on a rice and catfish farm in eastern Arkansas, CL Bledsoe is the author of more than twenty-five books, including the poetry collections Riceland, Trashcans in Love, Grief Bacon, and his newest, The Bottle Episode, as well as his latest novels Goodbye, Mr. Lonely and The Saviors. Bledsoe co-writes the humor blog How to Even, with Michael Gushue located here: https://medium.com/@howtoeven His own blog, Not Another TV Dad, is located here: https://medium.com/@clbledsoe He’s been published in hundreds of journals, newspapers, and websites that you’ve probably never heard of. Bledsoe lives in northern Virginia with his daughter.