easy jesus

easy jesus

A Poem by m.s.early

He saw the truck.
He swerved.
A thousand familiar faces crowded his mind.

Roland cut his name into a Birch tree,
then a heart,
and Regina
at Palmor's point
on senior skip day.
They smoked pot and swam in the lake.

He ran out of the road.
The tires kicked up gravel;
no shoulder.
Not that he knew it, but it was RedEye,
coming home
from the hunt club.

Chimny's 38th birthday at RiverRat's shop.
E&J brandy (Easy Jesus).
Possum and PWayne laughed like their lives depended on high volume.
And we all sang with Walt.
And Leslie sang for RiverRat on his pontoon boat
dry docked there in the shop
all night long.

Hard pull to the right.
He just
could. not get it. under. control.

Poor Boy told Cheerio apologetically,
he didn't allow blacks in his yard.
Squirrel waited with him on the side of the road
while Buck ran inside.
He was only in there a minute,
but it was an eternity of shame and embarrassment before they left on their bicycles.
*The phrase "heritage not hate" has always meant... bullshit.*

He opened his eyes and it stung.
The lights shined into the trees just a ways in front of where the truck stopped.
His hands wiped his eyes and came back with blood and pieces of glass.
The door wouldn't open until his shoulder forced it to.

Taylor and Sherry were drunk when they left the party
and they yelled and screamed in his truck until he stopped.
Kicked her out.
Drove off.
In the snow.
With heels.
She walked five miles home.
It started to sleet.
Went in their house.
Shot him in his back.
his head,
and his ankle.
The day before Christmas Eve.

RedEye's window was down.
His head was laid over on his elbow
resting
in the window.
Everything was perfectly...

silent.





© 2021 m.s.early


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Such a visual tale, M.S. Life literally passing before one's eyes and in a moment that seems like an eternity when all the people and memories that one has bloom into mind....just as the end nears. If this is the way life ends, then it will be one horrific, yet strangely calming experience. I like you way you presented the piece with backstory snippets of those he remembered just before he met his end and your final section leaves the reader in no doubt as to his fate. It's such an interesting and well written perspective on those last moments before death. I enjoyed the read. 🌹

Posted 3 Years Ago


m.s.early

3 Years Ago

Thank you so kindly for your thoughts and kind comments.

😊

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Added on February 28, 2021
Last Updated on February 28, 2021

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m.s.early
m.s.early

VA



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"A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world, and stop it going to sleep." -Salman Rushdie more..

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