“Long Ago And Far Away” by herbert t. schmidt, jr.

long ago and far away we were all much younger

I remember eating the nutso cake in tranquilizer alley
The congealed anti-depressant stew
in shorts and suspenders before beast enhancement
I stopped wearing belts when mr. blank guy came to me after group
and sd. thanks for your share, it really affected me, really
And hanged himself with his belt wrapped around the bathroom doorknob
and what used to be his neck at 4:30 in the morning
It’s 5 o’clock where are my fucking meds?

I became the king of the crazy belt makers in arts and crafts
It helped to be heavily sedated
when focusing on striking leather with tool
Sex plentiful and unhinged: the psych tech, the anorexic physicist, the suicidal failure,
even my wife and the woman who thought I was going to leave my wife
before I bought the banana boat
She wasn’t crazy about seeing me locked up
she thought I was running a new game of crackers
I was insanely hot, sweating molten fear…
It’s 5 after 5 where is that asshole shrink?  I gotta have my fucking meds…..

So let’s have dinner on depression glass…
the minute steak and mixed up vegetables right after
we all take a psychotic break for backgammon in the pod
Cheryl stole my goddamn diet pepsi my diet pepsi
mine is that the way it is here?
where we’re supposed to feel safe
no anyone can do anything at all to us and it’s ok
Because we’re cuckoo
and the rest of the drano gargling drug addicted population
is bat shit crazy or trying to duck a murder rap after blowing a girl friend’s head off
while higher than Sears Tower on yellow jackets and cocaine
It’s 7 after 5,  Alice, you gotta help me here
Keep the anti-depressant… Just give me the fucking valium.

Goddamn it, I’m about to do a Superman here and rip off my skin
transform myself into NoDerm the Magnificent
the most manipulative man on the planet
just don’t ask me for help…the Lord helps….you know the drill
Herr Doktor Freudian Whatshisname says if I spend an hour a day three days a week
Fifty-two weeks a year for eight years at $160 per
I’ll be cured of whatever it is I have…he doesn’t know just now
There is no diagnosis three and half months into my vacation on fantasy island
But some fast math tells me if I agree to buy him Switzerland I’ll be all better
Fuck, it’s 8 after 5, I am losing it big time
Cheryl, get out of my goddamn Diet Shasta Chocolate
Can’t anyone control that half-dressed whacked out frizz headed tongue chewing twinkie?
Alice, where are my meds?!! I’VEGOTTOHAVEMYMEDS!

And Joel the bus driver stands at his water fountain altar
intoning to a god of only his understanding:
We are the champions, my friends…and we’ll keep on fighting

Till the end….

herbert t. schmidt, jr.

htsjr©2010
StreetFever

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4 comments

  1. lkthayer · December 4, 2010

    “so let’s have dinner on depression glass” really strong writing, I love how you repeat “where are my meds??!!” I’m right there with you! Welcome to The Juice Bar Herb! 🙂

  2. htschmidtjr · December 4, 2010

    Thanks, Lisa! A pleasure to be here. Love your site!

    • lkthayer · December 4, 2010

      A pleasure to squeeze you! 🙂

  3. Susan Hayden · December 4, 2010

    Herb Schmidt is our modern-day e.e. cummings and more. Thankyou for sharing his work on your site!! xo/sh

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