Walter Miller Homepage

Where If You Lived HERE Youd Be (in a dysfonctional) Home Already

'96 SUMMER EXTRA Update

Page 3 of 7


Agian with the gross lyerics

Like I said he has a demonnicaly quick memory and also a quick wit. During his crap which I must say was a rathor spirited affair he recitted my poem with filthey words inserted, and said I should read it to her like that, instead of the "stupid" way I wrote it. I was houmiliated. I tried to keep silent and hold in my tears. To drown out the noise I turned up the CD player louder.

The Tracey Chapman CD was in there. A few times before he heard me play the Tracey Chatman CD of Gimme One Reason To Stay Here. And this time with his burn wounds still raw, and while he was perched up there on the bowl floating bisciuts and 'corn dogs' as he called them he started singing a version of the Gimme One Reason song he was makking up off the top of his head in this very Blues like Joe Cockor voice:

Gimme one brandnew diaper
And I'll make it black and brown
Gimme one, gimme one diaper,
Baby, watch me go to town
Put my ends in a Depends and,
Hold your nose and turn your back around

Althuohgh it took me longer to compose it, I made up my own version of it in reply and then I sang it to him:

My Youthful nose can't take him,
So I wear gloves and a mask
Yeah, my youlthfull eyes are baking
From the fumes around his ass
While hes sqeazing and hes making
Solids, liquods, and gas

Many many stanzas folowed and one day Ill publish them. In any ordinnary family relatoinship it would be funny and hartwarming that we both write songs becuase granfather and I actualy have something in common. But not in our home. The history of abuse and mistrust has tarnished any link between us. Instead of a funney harmonnic duet we ended up screamin versions of the song at one another for an hour. I coundt make up lyerics as fast as him and when I did they didnt ryhme. Finally I ran off into my room crying while he laughed and lauaghed his ass off plus he got me on the back of the head with a giant phlemm wad as I ran away. I think I cryed for an hour and some of the crying was due to other porblems too. As Tracey would say "OH BABY IVE GOT YOUR NUMBER..."
Well, The old basterds number is Number '2' and its goin at Warp 10 which is the speed of light an also evereywhere in the universe simmultanously. If you were ever in our bathroum youd know what I mean.

Say Cheese

That night at 3 AM I hear granfather rummaging around. I go in the kitchen an hes sittin there rippin open a carboard box. Inside the box is a fivepound block of American cheese. It was leftover from the Reagan years. Reagon found a warehause full of cheese and distribbuted it to the poor in the 1980's. Its become known ammong recipeints and later to collectors as Reagon Cheese. I knew we had a few blocks of it in one of the sheds outside. He must of went and got one.

There in the moonlight and amist wet-sounding slurps and smacks I noticed in granfathers monstorous slobberring dribbeling Ferengi-like mouth that hes eaten with loud snorts burps and grunts almost the whole frikkin cheese. Only the heel which was dryed out and had maggots and paper wasps makin a nest in it was left uneaten.

There was a big bottel of lemon pop on the table an granfather was warshing the cheese down with it. It was one of those creepy no-name brands of pop in glass botells that looks like it went out of business years ago but they still make it. Hed take a swig an set it down an throw his head back an burp as loud as he could. Watery cheese lava woud spray everywhere when he did it. He kept tryin to say the whola alpabet in one single burp. His eyes would pop, hed swallow, turn blue and belt out as fast as he can-"Abeyceedefgeeaitch-eyejaykayell-ffffpp! He kept stalling out on "L" an run out of gas on the "ellemenno" curve. Then hed curse GAWDAMMIT! real loud. YES I know in his prime he could make it to Q every time and YES once he made it allthe way to "x". His burps stink bad. The whole room smelled like rancid baloney from belches from his orangey smouldering molten maw. The man is the quantafiable living poster child for youthennasia.

CONTINUED: Disgousting Pig