the poems of george jones
...generation sucks

in lieu of anticipation…

a friend of mine had
county lines
and came home with the gift
of fireworks.

we set these off in the driveway
of my ex-urban home
seated deep
in the woods.
nothing very Bright, you see,
just some jumping-jacks
and loud things
like that.

we didn’t even burn all of them,
opting instead
to save some
in one of those plastic
grocery sacks, placed neatly
on a kitchen

we put on a movie,
lit up some pipes,
eased in to
the evening.

it was all going very well
until an hour or two
that these cops came creeping up the driveway
each with not-so-bright
guns drawn.

one pounded
on the door, which I answered.
he explained to me our neighbors
had reported gunshots.
I explained it must’ve been
the fireworks.
he wanted to come inside.
needless to say, he wasn’t welcome.

but no matter, cops in this town
are infinitely bored, always
looking for action.
so me and my friend
were brought outside
and made to place our hands
on the back of his car.
the air was freezing
and the car was wet.

the cops patted us down,
found nothing,
asked if anyone else was home.
my aunt was home.
the cop made me get my aunt,
who was sleeping.
they realized very quickly
she knew nothing of what was happening
(though she actually smuggled a little something
practically under their noses.)

then the cops dealt
with me and my friend,
made us chuck our pipes
into the woods.
but I guess they knew they had nothing
since they let us off
with a warning
and completely forgot about
the fireworks.

the next day we found our pipes,
but in the meantime
kept our eyes


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bongoboy productions
Last updated on
Saturday March 17, 2007