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Monday, March 13, 2017

DEAD FLOWERS IN A FRUIT JAR




            







Dead Flowers In A Fruit Jar




See you around, girl! you say hanging out the window
Trying to look sorrowful
I left you some flowers over yonder to make you think of me!
And I look toward the window on the porch by the swing
And see a fruit jar full of black-eyed susans setting there
Like little spots of sunshine on a cloudy day
And tears sting my eyes
Take care now, you post script hastily
And pull that loud ass Grand Prix out of the driveway
And burn rubber down the highway just as fast
As a crazy man can with forty dollars in his pocket
And a dream as big as Texas.


Watching that burnt orange color
As far as I could in the noon day sun,
I felt like a thrown away memory 
In somebody's childhood scrapbook
Standing there like a fool in my cotton dress
And the apron I made cause you said you liked the color yellow on me
But never got around to buying me a yellow dress or a car or an iron
Or found time to give me that baby girl you always said you wanted
With my eyes and my hair and your smile and your imagination
I imagine I won't ever get that baby now. Or that iron.


I don't imagine I'll ever see your smiling face again in my lifetime
Not now, when you got everything you ever wanted
Waiting for you down the road with a big contract to sign
And shiny new guitars and movie stars to meet
(And of course, that willowy blonde that discovered you
At the roadhouse fifteen Saturday nights ago
Singing "Your Cheating Heart.")


Taking the wash off the line,
I bury my nose in your fresh blue shirt
And wonder if you'll remember that you forgot it
And come barrelling back up the road,
Dust clouds twirling about your head like halos
In that ugly orange monstrosity you love more than me
But not as much as yourself.


For a moment I let myself
Look longingly down the road in hopeful wonder
And when minutes pass by
With only the sound of a dog howling
And angry bees in the apple trees buzzing
And that old grandfather clock in the living room chiming
Like the Death March at some body's funeral,
I shrug my proud shoulders and march over to the well,
Take off my wedding ring and throw that damned thing in
Not waiting to hear it ding against the walls
Or splash into it's cold wet depths
But turn and throw the laundry into the wind
Like confetti on Dick Clark's New Year's Eve.


The blue shirt ends up plastered against the side of the barn
Like a bull's eye waiting to get shot at
And I wonder if you took the gun
But feel too blue to shoot it if you didn't
I hope you're happy, I say crossing the porch
And looking into my empty house,
Down the hall and at the unmade bed
Still strewn with all your empty promises.


A solitary tear runs down my face
And I let it fall into the dust
And say your name so quiet not even I could hear it whispered
Oh, Lord, don't ever let him be happy, I pray
And reach to close the door, my brown eyes falling
On the flowers on the floor
Black eyed susans, your favorites
In a big glass fruit jar of unknown origin
Your parting gift, your way of saying goodbye
When you promised me forever.


In two week's time, they'll be dead and dry
But I'll keep them there until they disappear
And in two month's time, unbeknownst to me,
I'll draw that wedding ring up again
In a bucket full of cold water, shining like fool's gold
And clutch it to my heart
As your voice comes pouring through the radio.
















©by Voo
December 5, 2005
2:30 a.m.