Titular Title

I've been listening to a lot of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds lately, and I've definitely been a bit more inspired because of them. It's pretty obvious in this piece, which has gone through no revision whatsoever, much like all of my other stuff.

Micheal's Quest

Micheal was a meek man of twenty-three
he seemed to be fresh off the funny farm
by the way he walked with a mean twist in his hip
down the sidewalk to the local dollar store

there, he'd stumble through the aisles
his hand guiding him along knock-off
brand chocolate-flavored candies
until he'd arrive at a suitable three-liter bottle of orange soda

he'd grab the bottle with both hands and
make his way to Mindy
she was always behind the register
when he was there

with her dolled-up fat face and her grey
hair, her eyelids blue with glitter
and her lips would drip with pink lipstick
and she'd muster all the love she had left to give
and ask little Mikey, “Is that all?”
It always was.

Micheal was never much for small talk
or, for that matter, nutrition
he'd drip a greasy hand into his sweatpants pocket
and fish out one dollar fifty

after the bag rip incident a few years back
he'd always ask for double plastic bags
so his precious life syrup would never spill onto
the crosswalk and spray his eyes again

he really loved orange soda, but you see,
he'd prefer to see as he
walked the quarter-mile home
switching the bags from hand to hand

and when he'd stop outside his door
he'd sit on the steps and open his bottle
and Micheal, not planning on sharing
would drink straight from the bottle

he'd sit and drink from the three-liter bottle
until it was empty
and his stomach couldn't manage to keep it all in
and he'd vomit on himself.