Grunge at 51

grunge at 51

keep me awake
midnight and two hours to go
yes i need to change the oil
spare me from the valve tappets
the aging professional space cadets
the airport full of wet tee shirts

he was such a good boy
kept himself clean
harley dreams buried deep
stayed away from pot parties
didn’t chase the girls
wouldn’t know what if he caught one anyway
never touched the girlie mags
      they were demeaning
      the girls said so didn’t they
it helped that unless the girls wanted him
      to help them pass the science test
they laughed in his face
even in his dreams they laughed in his face

alternative rock
alternative to npr
      serious music for serious crashes
guitar walls drill the aural nerve
lock open the eyelids
i am with it

the microphone smelled like a joint
at the album rock station
in the breaks he spoke of this musician
      once with this band
      now with that one
the patter worked
they thought he knew so much
he read the liner notes
never went to a concert
      somebody might hand him a roach
      or a tab
he was clean under his dirt
they would discover his pretense
yes there were the lostgirls
the ones he read about
chatting for hours in the stale cannabis haze
but never a bed on offer
not dirty enough he guessed
or maybe they just made those parts up

boy voices begging and screaming
dweebs at 100 decibels
girl voices sharp and cutting
no one long enough
there were not many girls

the lady sat grayhaired with her knitting
legs that don’t work so well any more
enjoy yourself she said
you don’t have to be clean
tell me good news
you are a man you need it
who are you old bag he said
and what have you done with my mother

home
i pull into the driveway
turn off the lights, the engine, the radio
slowly the sixstringed assault fades into 2 am
in the almost dark
there are fireflies

  - O Ceallaigh

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