Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Microstory 1528: They Call Me

My friends call me Limerick
And do you want to know why?
It’s because that’s my name
My parents are both poets
Or rather, that’s what they call themselves
They call me The Bard
My father manufactures paper clips
And my mother clips paper, up in the paper clip factory office
And what am I?
What did I become?
Nothing, really, if you can believe it
I don’t care much about anything but drinking
And sleeping
And fighting
Why, if I could do all three of those at once
I would be in heaven
They call me the Fighting Irishman
Because I’m always getting into fights
And they assume I’m Irish
But that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?
You wouldn’t name someone after the place they live?
I guess that’s not that stupid
It’s more just not true about me
My therapist has asked me to write down my feelings
My feelings about my family
About my habits
And to do it in a poem
He calls me The Problem Patient
But he doesn’t know I know that
I tried to make this rhyme, but I can’t do it
So now I’m just telling you my story
Broken into short lines
Is that how poetry works?
I wouldn’t know, I don’t care for it
All I care about is all I have
And I’ve no intention of changing my behavior
They can arrest me all they want, but I won’t stop
This is who I am, and I’m happy with it
And if you try to lock me up, I will punch myself free
Because that’s what I do
They call me The Pugilist

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