The Toilet Eats Your Children

The toilet eats your children
But just the ones
You don’t like

It waits until they have to go

In the middle of the night
And then—Poof!

All gone

You’ll wake up in the morning

And there’ll be one extra seat

At the breakfast bench

A little bit more cereal
A little more toast

A spoonful more of scrambled eggs

Left on the purple breakfast plate

And are you sad?
Well, how can you be sad?
You don’t realize they’re gone

And they’re not dead or hurt

They’re just—somewhere else

The toilet eats your children
And sends them

Down into the plumbing

And you know what?

They have fun!

They love it!
It's a blast!

Kids love water

And wetness

And sliding down

Dark tubes

Into other dark tubes

Until they wind up

In some polluted lake

Or ocean

With everything else

The toilet eats

Meanwhile, you head to work
And drink your coffee

And check your mail
And try to remember
Someone’s birthday

It’s your child’s birthday
The child the toilet ate

But you don’t know that

You know the birthdays

Of the children you like but—

You can't quite remember
What it is
You're forgetting

It’s the sensation of having something

You used to have
But don’t have
Anymore

Like money
Or patience

Or time

Except in this case

It’s a child

A child who’s sitting on a garbage barge
In the middle of the ocean

Plotting their return

To your breakfast table

So he or she can scoop up the last

Of the scrambled eggs

Taking one solitary bite

Of the last piece of toast

You, on the other hand, are imagining a vacation

With the children you have left

Trips to places you would never consider visiting

If you had that one extra child

The toilet knows this

It knows everything
And it’s pleased as punch
To know that it made your life
A little easier

And when your child returns

--And they always return

The toilet will wait until the middle of the night

And send him or her

Back down into the pipes again

All while you sleep soundly
Wondering whose birthday it is
Tomorrow

Wait Inside This Creepy Room

Do me a favor, sir

Wait inside this creepy room

Pretty soon

We’ll take you to another creepy room
But right now
You wait in this one
And when you’re ready to crawl out of your skin
I’ll come get you

You like the wallpaper?

You like the carpet?
You like the magazines
With the dead raccoons on ‘em?

I designed the place

Top to bottom

Floor to ceiling
Wall-to-wall

It needed an...intriguing touch

Don’t mind the shoes

We don’t know who they belong to
They just pile up all over the place
And we can never get anybody
To throw ‘em out for us

You can try on a pair

If you want

You look like you got two nice feet

Going on
Down there

You know, I wanted to have paintings of feet

Hung up
All around the office
But the doctor
He’s an armpit man

Feel free to put your cigarettes out

Right in the carpet

Gives ‘em a little bit of texture

You know what I mean?

Do you smoke?

You don’t smoke?
You wanna start?

Smoking will kill you

But so will killing somebody
Because they’re pissing you off
And you can’t have a smoke
To calm down
So to me
It’s all six of one

You know what I mean?

Yeah, you know what I mean

Relax

Take a seat
Have a beer

We keep ‘em in a cooler

Next to the urine samples
To the left of the receptionist’s desk

We don’t have a receptionist anymore

On account of the doctor
Firing her because he thought she was doing witchcraft
On her lunch break

He’s a real old-fashioned kind of guy

Loves teeth
Just loves them

Almost as much as armpits

I told him he should have become a dentist

But he said the pictures of cavities hurt his feelings
So he became a general practitioner instead

I think it was a good call

How bad can you screw up
When you’re just telling people to lose ten pounds
And take their diabetes medication?

I gotta tell you

I’ve worked a lot of places
But this is by far
The creepiest

You start in this room

Then you go in another
You strip down
You go to another
We make you put your socks back on
Then another room
Then another
Then another

By the time you see the doctor

You don’t know your tits from your tonsils

But you’re in and out so fast

You don’t even notice

That’s the medical field for you

Hey, be sure to put your number down in the book

When you sign in

You seem like a lot of fun

We could get a drink when you’re done here

Oh, believe me

When you’re finished here
You’re going to need a drink

When the Sun Says Goodbye to the Mountains

When the sun says goodbye to the mountain
The mountain move a little closer
To the sky

The sun arrives at the top of the night

And drops down
Into a bevy of stars
Reciting nursery rhymes
About sugar
And violins

The stars tell the sun

That the mountain
Would move itself
Up into the Heavens
If it could spend even one hour
Closer to her warmth

The sun wonders about her farewell

Whether it was too poignant
Or overly sentimental

She gravitates toward a memory

Of herself
Looking back at the mountain
And in this particular memory
The mountain seems happy
To watch her go

Not sad

Not upset
Not forlorn

Happy

Satisfied

And she’s pleased

She ascends knowing

That nothing is left down on Earth for her

Nothing remains

To apologize for

The sun tells herself

That she cannot return to the mountain
Until the night subsides
And the stars slumber
And the nursery rhymes
Rain down on sleeping children
From Persia
To Peru

The sun counts her light--

Each ray
Each burst
Each ember

She waits for the moment

When dawn is required
Then lays her leg
Down into the valley
Where a young man
Awakens
On a day that will help him
Meet his love
At a bar called Henrietta’s
Two miles

From where he lives

The sun isn’t concerned with the man

She’s concerned with the mountain

And when it sees her

She knows the stories of the stars are true

She shines down

On it
The way only a lovestruck sun
Can shine

The mountain relaxes

Against the earth
Letting its rocks soften
And its trees take root

The sun and the mountain

Tell each other stories
Of days that went on too long
And nights that never ended
And they promise that today
Will not be one of those days

And that when night comes

It will not be one of those nights

And the promises they make

Are carried across the valley
Into the ear of a girl
Who will find today to be a good day

A different sort of day

And she’ll decide to go out tonight

To the bar with the funny name
So she can fall in love with a boy

Who didn’t know that this day

Was going to be anything special at all

And while all this happens

The sky lifts itself up a bit higher
Wondering what other wonderful things
Might happen
Today

Credit Cards and Denial

I have some advice for you, Oliver

Don’t look at the checkbook

Just cut the check

And be done with it

That’s my advice

Our daughter is getting married

And if you look at the check you’re writing
If you even think about it
You’re bound to get upset
And nobody wants that

And by nobody I mean me

You know, when your child gets married

There are just certain things you shouldn’t do

There are ways you live your life up to that point

But then—once you reach that major event

You have to turn your entire life around
And start living like you’re in some kind of parallel Universe

Where up is down

And down is up

And money is just something
That doesn’t really exist
And that comes in an endless supply

That’s how you do it, Oliver

That’s how you make it work

If the Lord wanted us to know

How much we spend on our children’s wedding
He wouldn’t have given us
Credit cards and denial

Remember when you suggested

That we should pay for the whole wedding in cash?

In cash?

As a way of avoiding

Spending too much money?

As if that was even possible

You talked about us
Having a budget

A budget

As if a budget

Was something tangible

Something that could actually be

Adhered to

Oh that was funny, Oliver

That was all very funny

I really had a good laugh at that one

Cash

A budget
No live pelicans

You are just full of jokes

And I really—

No, I really do appreciate them, Oliver

But now we’re coming down to the wire

And it’s time to get serious

So listen to me, darling

Listen to the woman
Who has kept you alive all these years
In spite of your blood pressure
And your habit of running red lights

I'm the woman who raised your children
And pressed your suits

And made sure that you still had some hair left

By the time you turned sixty

So trust me
Don’t look at the checkbook

Here's how we're going to do this--

I’ll give you a number

And you write it down

Then you write down another one
And another one
And another one

And pretty soon

Before you know it

The whole wedding’s paid off

It’s the only way, Oliver

It’s the only way to do it

Trust me, darling
I know it’s your money
But I figured out a long time ago
That happiness isn’t about money

It’s about what you know

And when it comes to your money

The less you know
The better

Love and Interruption

We were midway through

The lovemaking

When the volcano erupted

The rumbling was, at first

Conducive to our activity
But then, we realized
That our lives were in danger

This thought

Termination
Only served to instigate our lust

And we carried on

Right there on the beach

While villagers ran past us

And tourists took photos

Not of us, of course
Although I suppose some of them
Could have been taking photos of us
It would have been hard not to
Since we were directly in view
Of the eruption

At that point

Lava was making its way

Down from the mountain

And my lover was biting my earlobe

In a way that smothers sound

And suffocates the desire to live

If living means stopping him

From doing that which gives me life

The roar of the volcano

Coincided with my roars of pleasure

And as boats were being loaded up

With those who make their lives

On the island

My lover smelled my hair

And rubbed sand

Into my neck

I thought to myself—

Is this how I die?

And then—

Would I care?
Would I really care
If this was how I died?

So many people die in situations like these

Tragic

Sudden

Bewildering situations

Where they try and try

To escape with their lives

Only to perish anyway

And their last thoughts are—what?

Panic-stricken?

Morose?

Grievous?

I wanted my last thoughts

To be of my lover

And his breath

And the whispered way

He says my name

When he knows

Only I can hear it

I didn’t want my final act on this earth

To be running

I wanted it to be there

Laying in the sand

Loving something

Loving somebody

Loving the sand and the surf

And the drums beating

Signaling that this was it

This really was it

Water and fire fell down around us

And as it did

I reached for my lover’s hand

Not so I could grab onto it

But because I wanted to squeeze it

Just once

Just to let him know I was there

That I had been there

And I would always be there

Until the fire burns all that’s left

And the waves are ready

To take me away

Rachel Thinks About Her Boss

Rachel thinks about her boss

She thinks about what his father must look like

This is normal
She tells herself

It’s normal

It’s normal

To think about your boss’ father

When your boss

Is half your age

He calls her Rachel

She calls him Mr. Hudson

Even though he told her

To call him Chris

She refuses to call him Chris

And she doesn’t like

Being called Rachel

She would prefer

That he call her ‘Boss’

But for that to happen

She’d have to become his boss

And for THAT to happen

She’d have to work at a company

That valued years and years of experience

Rather than a degree from a school

That used to be shit

Back when Rachel was in college

Back when Rachel was in college

She never thought she’d be working for someone

Who wasn’t even alive

When she was first starting out

In the world of business

And men

And promotions

And hope

And shoes that hurt like a bitch

When you have to wear them all day

Rachel thinks about the ties her boss wears

Every Wednesday

Ties with dogs and monkeys and playing cards on them

Ridiculous ties

Worn by a ridiculous person

Who probably has a very attractive father

She dreams of marrying her boss’ father

And becoming his stepmother

She dreams of making him burn

All his ridiculous ties

Right in front of her

In a barrel on the front lawn

Of what she imagines

Is his very nice house

She dreams of sipping wine

At Christmas dinner

Watching him try to make conversation with her

His stepmother

And his boss

She sees him sweating

Through a nice shirt

He bought just for Christmas

And a tie with candy canes on it

She suggests to him

That he should go upstairs and change

So as not to embarrass her

His stepmother and boss

In front of everyone

Gathered for the holiday

He’ll do it

He’ll do whatever she says

She’s Rachel

She’s Mrs. Rachel

And he’s Chris

Just Chris

And they have a wonderful

Working

Relationship

And when he comes downstairs

Wearing a new shirt

And a simple blue tie

She’ll tell him how nice he looks

Because that’s just the kind of boss

She is

Clapping Along

Okay, so I was terrified

Everybody—

Oh god

Everybody started clapping

And I—

Well, I have trouble, uh

Clapping

On the beat

Like, on the—

I’m sorry

Can we—

This is just—

I mean, this just happened

I’m still very—

Okay, so everybody was clapping along
And uh, I wanted to, uh, join in

Of course

But I—

I knew that once I started

I mean, it all starts out fine

It’s easy when you start

And then you have to keep going

Because the whole song—

I mean, I don’t know if you’ve heard it

But the whole song

The entire thing is, uh

Hand claps

I mean, it’s nothing but hand claps

It’s horrible

I don’t know why—

I mean, I don’t know why

Anybody would do that

To a group of people

Just, uh, foist something like that

On them

I mean, three and a half minutes

Of hand clapping is—

It’s terrorism

I mean, I’m sorry, but—

Yes, yes

For someone like me?

That’s terrorism

It is public humiliation

And it is—

And what was I going to do?
Not clap?

That’s even worse

Then they think I’m not enjoying myself

They think I don’t like the song

And I love the song

I love it

I sing it in my car all the time—

But I don’t CLAP to it

I don’t CLAP along

For one thing

My car would go off the road

For another—

I CAN’T KEEP THE BEAT

But I tried

I really tried and—

God, it was awful

It was just awful

Just me

Careening off the beat

Like, uh, like, like—

IT WAS AWFUL

Never again

I’m never going to a concert again

Never

Never again

Never

. . . . .

But I mean other than that

I had a nice time

Falling Down Drunk But You Can't Even Drown

You know what the sad part is?

I can’t even drown

You ever been that way?

Falling down drunk

But you can’t even drown?

I’d love to drown

Deep end of the pool

And just—

Bam

Down to the bottom

Can’t float

Can’t swim
Just laying there
Waiting for winter to come
So it can freeze over on you

Doesn’t that sound nice?

But I gotta stand up

I gotta stand up
And stretch

And pretend I’m okay

You ever have to pretend you’re okay

And all you wanna do is shout—

I’M NOT OKAY

Ha

I haven’t been okay

Since I knew what not okay was

Since then I’ve just been stumbling

Not falling
Not dropping

Not catching anybody’s eye

Just bouncing here and there

Wondering how stupid you look

I wish I could be graceful

That’s the one thing

I do wish

Even when I wasn’t a fuck-up

I was still a klutz

Bumping into shit

Forgetting where I put things
Losing everything anybody ever gave to me

When I became a drunk

I thought—

Well, at least now I have an excuse

To be this way

At least now it makes sense

Me being who I am

You ever find a problem so good

You just settle in
And let it fuck with you?

You ever find a way of being that—

Even if it’s bad

You go—

Yeah, that’s me

That’s who I am

That’s what happened to me

I found something that could kill me

And I thought--

Fine

Let it kill me

But it hasn’t done it yet

Keep wondering what the hold-up is

Didn’t expect

To have to wait this long

All this water

And nowhere to drown

Plenty to drink though

Hell yeah

Always plenty

To drink

Whimsical Rodents

So we have this movie idea—

Rats

Talking rats

And singing—

Well, they could sing

They don’t have to sing

I’m thinking whimsical

Whimsical Rodents

You know—with top hats?

Little canes?

Some tap shoes?

They could tap!

People will love that

Kids love rats

You should see my son

When you put a rat near him

He goes crazy

Screaming
Crying
Begging me to take it--

He loves them!

Now imagine all those kids

And all those rats

It’ll be dynamite

And the rats can get in all kinds of trouble

You have no idea

How much trouble
Rats can get into

By the time my son’s third rat got pregnant

My life was—

Wow, it was bad

It was pretty bad

And trying to get them in the tap shoes—

Well, I wasn’t just going to suggest

That rats could wear tap shoes
Unless I made sure it was feasible

Some guys, you know

They come in here
They pitch a cartoon
They don’t even bother
Trying to figure out if it’s feasible

But I’m all about feasible

If it’s not feasible—

Especially rats

You can’t have unrealistic rats

Nobody will buy it

My son will walk right out of a movie theater

If he sees a rat being portrayed in a way that’s not—

Well, he'd probably walk out anyway
Because now he has this thing with rats

The doctors say we can't call it a phobia exactly
Because there's a physical component that's really--

So anyway

I try putting these rats

In tap shoes

And let me tell you something

They love it

They--love--it

They can’t get enough

So now we know that’s doable

It’s feasible

And you know what else it is?

It’s whimsical

That’s where I got all this from--

Whimsical Rodents

It’s a knockout, right?

I mean, come on--

Dynamite, right?

Absolute dynamite

You Only Get One Day in Florence

You only get one day in Florence

Now, you’re going to want more

You’re going to want more days in Florence
But you’re not going to get them

You should know that now

I’m always bringing people to Florence

And at the end of the day
Nobody wants to leave
And I have to—

Ugh

I have to beg them--

Ladies

Gentlemen
Please

We went over this

But it doesn’t matter

How much we go over it
They always want to stay
An extra day

And one time

I let them stay an extra day
The people who hired me?
And they never left

They’re still in Florence

Not that they care

They love it

They love it there
But keep that up
And where are you?

Pretty soon

All of Nebraska
Is living in Florence

And that’s not fair

To the Italians

And it’s not fair to me!

I can’t make a living

Bringing people to Italy
If they move there
After one trip

So I beg them to leave Florence

And they don’t want to
Because after one day
They fall in love

And I tell them

They’re not really in love
But you know what?

They are

They are in love

So I lie to them

And deny it
I tell them it’s all just
The Illusion of Italy

That’s what I call it

The Illusion of Italy

And they buy it…

…Most of the time

But it’s tough

It’s really tough

To be honest with you

I wouldn’t take them
To Florence at all
If I had my way

But then who would go?

Who would go to Italy

If they couldn’t see Florence?

Not me, that’s for sure

Italy without Florence?

I mean, geez

What’s the point?

Catchers

The men in the boats

Are Catchers

You can’t call them that

But that’s what they are

They go out in the boats

And they say, ‘I’m coming back’

And they don’t come back

But you can’t tell

You can’t tell they’re not coming back

When you stand on the docks

Waving good-bye to them

If you act like they’re not coming back

Then they won’t come back

But they’re not coming back anyway

But you can’t say that

You really can’t say much of anything

You can wave

And you can cry

You cry a lot

It’s what you’re supposed to do

I’d hold my mother’s hand

And look at the line of women

Waving to their boyfriends

And in my mind

I’d call them The Crying Women

And I’d think they were so beautiful

They were beautiful

But they were beautiful the way women are

When you’re a kid

And they’re older

And you think you’re always going to be a kid

But you don’t know that’s what you’re thinking

Then you grow up
And what do you know?

You’re a catcher

One night your mom is sitting on the couch
And she asks where you’re going

You say ‘Out’
And you’re not lying

Because you’re going out

But what you don’t say is—

‘I’m never coming back’

You’re not even on the dock

You’re not even sailing away

You’re not even watching your girl

Or your mom say good-bye to you

You don’t even give ‘em that

Because you don’t want to admit what you are

You don’t want to say

That you’re one of those guys

Who lets the screen door shut

And the cool air out

And doesn’t even look back

To make sure his mom

Doesn’t fall asleep

With a lit cigarette

Still in her hand

You don’t want to say a lot of things

And if you don’t say them

They’re not true

Even if they are

And if you don’t believe them

Then it’s like you’re not an catcher

You’re just a guy

Who can’t help feeling

Like he’s got something better waiting for him

On the other side

Of his life

You’re just a guy

Who wants to get away for awhile

You’re just a guy

Who doesn’t need to say good-bye

Because he’s not going to be gone

That long

You’re not an catcher

You’re coming back

And nobody asks you

When

Puzzles, or Divorce

We can do puzzles
Or we can get divorced

Those are the choices--

Puzzles, or divorce

Personally

I’d prefer the puzzles

They’re good for the brain

And they don’t require a lawyer

They won’t financially bankrupt us

They won’t make our children hate us

Puzzles

We should do puzzles

I bought one that has a fir tree on it

The tree is a fir

It doesn’t have fur on it
I just wanted to be clear about that

I bought one with puppies

Everybody loves puppies
You don't
But everybody else does
Which is why you don't
Which is what makes you an asshole
But anyway--

I bought a puzzle

With that woman on it

You know
The woman with the piercing eyes
From National Geographic?

That’s a good one

It’ll take us years to do that one

Years

That’s the important part

Time

It’ll take lots and lots of time to—

You know

Do all these

And once we’re done

One of us will be dead

And that’ll be fun too

Well…

For the one who’s not dead

I bet you’ll die first

I can’t be sure

But I bet you will

The puzzles will help

They’re very stressful
And you don’t do well with stress

You have that bad heart

And that blood sugar
And that weird ear
And that low sex drive

So you can’t be long for this world

And who wants to spend

Their last—hopefully few—
Years on earth
Going through a divorce?

Not me

And not you
--Hopefully

So, let’s just do the puzzles

We can start with the puppies

Don’t you think that’s a good idea?

We should have gotten a puppy

Maybe that would have helped things

Instead we got the kids

And they just made things worse

Oh well

They’ll be grown up one day

And they’ll be glad we stayed together

Our parents did puzzles, they’ll say,

That was the trick

That was what kept them together