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 Sep 2013 Laura Stridiron
Showman
He opens his Star Wars: A New Hope lunch box
Inside a hippies dream.
**** in baggies that have the superman symbol
And Batman symbol on them
Tabs of LSD
And molly.
Hunter S. Thompson would have a field day

©Gambit '13
 Sep 2013 Laura Stridiron
Showman
First there is the prep.
The roommate.
Wearing salmon colored pants.  
He has Shaggy from ****** Doo
On his left thigh.
The alcoholic.
She has a drinking problem.
She is in denial of her drinking problem.
She hangs out with the loners.
The loners.
Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places.
The blond looks like Tom Petty.
The one with dark hair, glasses and braces
They live next door.
Living together but segregated. 
Wild cards.
All of us.

©Gambit '13
No matter how hard I try
  I just cant seem to say goodbye
Its been years
  Still doesnt stop the tears
Thinking of you breaks my heart
  I just wish we could restart
Start a new
  With new sense, and better glue
You really have no clue
  I will always be inlove with you
My feelings will always stand strong
  No matter how long
I will love you until the end
   And if I could do it over, I 'd do it again
You destroyed me
  Worse part is, I still feel  we are meant to be
Hoping someday you will see
  How much you truely mean to me
I love you forever and A day
  But I cant be with you
There's no way
  You broke me in two
With all your games
  And all the pain
You feel no shame
  While driving me insane
To you it's fun
  Like the power of frying ants in the sun
Cruel and unusual
  Painful and brutal
To you it's a joke
Not a care in the world what you provoke
  To you it's a game
You hold no shame
  Its the shots you call
With no fear to fall
The head rush I get
Get ready, get set
The fluster in my brain
get  ready, get set, go insane
the beautiful smile on that beautiful face
get ready, get set, let my heart race
the tremble in my body
get ready, get set, this has gotta be
The shakes I get
Get ready get set
The thing I feelI now its real
In a long happy marriage
Sometimes bedtime grows stale
Once toe curling *** fades
As libidos doth fail.

We both have tough jobs
And two kids of our own.
Sad, we both want to sleep
When we’re finally alone

The man at the store
Said “I have just the thing.
You really should try it-
makes your *** life take wing!”

It wasn’t a **** flick
Or a blue pill to swallow,
Just a tiny transmitter
to hide in her pillow.

At night, as she slept,
The salesman explained
My subliminal message
would be fed to her brain.

With her passions inflamed
She would turn to her mate
Like the once nubile bride-
Leave the rest up to fate.

So I made a recording
With a saucy suggestion
Then looked forward to bedtime
hoping for the res-errection.

My bride’s a deep sleeper,
(A good thing since I snore)
The tape’s played two weeks now
And I still haven’t scored.

I completely was baffled
That salesman assured
That no “wood” would go wasted
No ***** ignored.

Instead every night
About two thirty nine
I’d slip off to the bath
Where the “beat” would go on



I resolved to return
The unhelpful device
Before the guarantee ended
And I’d be out the price

Imagine my shock,
imagine my dread
When I found the transmitter
in my pillow instead!

Seems my wife had decided
To play with my head:
“Honey, go f8ck yourself,
If you wake me, you’re dead.”
marital aide fails hubby
I stand before the wrack of it;
The home where I first learned to read.
The humble house of all our hopes.
Our refuge in our hour of need.

Surrounded by a plywood fence,
she lies in splinters on the ground.
The debris field of my yesterdays
is spread about me all around.

I find a piece of painted wood
with our house numbers nailed upon.
I rescue it for Closure's sake
One last look, then I am gone.
You cannot save time in a bottle,
that's not something a bottle can do.
Sure, time can be lost there
and loves are divorced there-
but saving time, bottles can't do.

For those who spend time in a bottle
will wonder where time has got to.
Time won't be found there,
perhaps a good wine there
is sufficient to compensate you.

And as for "the box made for wishes
and dreams that will never come true."
They will put you inside
and there you will bide
till Gabriel's playing for you.

You cannot keep time in a bottle
experience taught me that's true.
Perhaps whiskey or rye
and a slow way to die
but time will not stand still for you.
In memory of Jim Croce on the 40th anniversary of his passing. the original "Time in a Bottle" was written by him after the death of his young daughter.
Croce died just as his plane and career were both taking off.
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