The MeatTree

October 4th, 2008 · 1 Comment

We were

halfway between Des Moines and St Louis,

low on gas,

out of smokes,

far into the pangs of delirium tremens,

hopped up on powders that give nose bleeds,

cringing at every ray of sunlight and birdsong,

sucking down carbonated, caffeinated beverages

in order to prop open those heavy eyelids

when I noticed that

the FASTER I drove
the FATTER I would become.

Now, I’m no lean meat to begin with. We’re talk’in porterhouse here. We’re talk’in NewYorkStrip. We’re talk’in PorkChops that will not be defined as Chops but more likely as Pork Sectionals. I’m a fuck’in MeatTree. I’m a meat that’s got a Soul.

I’m a BIG guy.

So to be having this quandary was quite a poor tiding.

I realized that I needed to stop traveling in order to stop the condition. If traveling were Fattening then not-traveling should be Thin-ening. A binge of space so to speak.

And so I STOPped.

Almost all at once, skidding just a bit. And you catapulted forward, your elbows on the dashboard, ass in the air.

And nothing else happened.

“Why did we stop” you asked.

“Why didn’t we stop SOONER?!?!” I asked you right back.

And you, mishearing my fear, mistook the sentiment for haste.

You then mistook the misperceived haste and transformed it into lust.

You misinterpreted everything as lust and then suddenly we were fuck’in.

And it didn’t take me very long to realize

THIS is the cure!

After the first round, I’m back to my normal weight.

After round two, I’m a bit dried up, but Gawdamn! I’m one sexy motherfucker!

After round three, I start to fade away.

I mean that I am actually fading out of existence. I’ve fucked myself meaningless.

I can see through my own skin.

My car no longer looks like my car.

And my girlfriend no longer recognizes me, can not SEE me, sees through me, looks around herself, confused, gets out and then walks around the car, wondering why it is she is on this country road.

And I’m thinking: I CAN’T DISSAPEAR!!!, appearing is just about all I’ve got going these days, jump back in the drivers seat, put the pedal to the metal and I am outta there.

Five miles down the road

I exist again.

So, I am single now, and

I am a fat ass.

But at least I exist.

At least I’ve got that going for me.

Tags: 2008 · Ames Progressive Classics · AP Issues · Poetry · September 2008

1 response so far ↓

  • 1 Joseph David Soukup // Nov 17, 2008 at 8:24 am

    I like this one quite a bit. But I think you should add the word “mother” before “fuck’in” in “I’m a fuck’in MeatTree.”

    I think it would flow better and sound more badass. But what do I know, I’m from Iowa.

    This poem/thought is awesome, and I enjoyed it.

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