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Poetry by Gabriel Ricard 

 

 

 

© 2004  Gabriel Ricard

 

 


Drive-by Wake

Act One

God-God-God...
(She pauses to laugh)
God bless this smooth miracle!
(She grins, laughs again, takes a drink)
Not the whiskey, silly, the dead man.
(She gets rid of an annoying ice cube)
The husband due for burial tomorrow.
(She suddenly turns quite serious)
Thirty years, lousy lay, cheap to the bone.
(She's gonna break that shot glass soon)
But now, at fifty-two, I'm finally free.
(She very neatly finishes her drink)
Free to make egg salad, free to kill the dog.
(She very neatly pours another)
Most of all, free to have an oreo in bed.

Act Two

Richard? Good friend.
(He orders two beers from the bar)
Forty years up and down this street.
(He lights a smoke when the beers arrive)
We saw it all, fucked it all, fought it all.
(He coughs on the first drag)
Everyone knew we were out to take the world.
(He looks around, shakes his head, then nods)
And they knew we were serious as hell.
(He puts out the cigarette and lights another)
Right to the end, right to the end.
(He puts out the cigarette and lights another)
Man...oh man..man...those were some good times.
(He laughs for awhile and orders another beer)
Marty was indeed a good friend. The best. Bar none.

Act Three

Until yesterday, I thought he was still alive.
(He nods to his pretty wife and she leaves)
For a long time, I considered him a good father.
(He smiles when the wife returns with sodas)
At least until I read the books from my local library.
(He drifts away to stare at his feet)
The one's suggesting he might've been a tad negligent.
(He raises his soda for a sip but pauses)
I remember clearly the bicycle he never bought.
(He glances to his forever-grinning wife)
I recall easily the lecture about honesty.
(He sneers at his forever-smiling wife)
And so much more I didn't want to hear.
(He throws the soda at his forever failing wife)
I guess you could say he failed me a lot.

Act Four

Apparently, one heart attack was all I needed.
(He stands two feet above my wooden floors)
Do I miss the ones I left behind?
(He adds a new dimension to my t.v. set)
Not really.
(He moves away from my t.v. set)
All those games we used to play?
(He takes a rest near my window)
They wore us down after awhile.
(He sticks an arm through the glass)
And as for me, I tried here and there.
(He moves a little more of himself out into the night)
Failed here and there, drank a little too much.
(He looks to me and smiles)
But I do believe I did better than most.

(He disappears forever and ever)



 

 

 

All work is copyrighted property of Gabriel Ricard.

 

 

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