I got this feeling, gradually

that he only kept me around

for my good qualities

he could use.

“You have the height thing figured out,” he said.

“Well, I was born this way.”

My friend, was slow to grow, and stayed short, for years.

Upon meeting him, my girlfriend once told me, “He has some character flaws.”

“He has good points too,” I said.

We would go on double dates, and I would make

a couple jokes

that would cause the girls to laugh.

“You set them up, perfectly,” he told me. “I got both of their numbers. You’re good to have around.”

We went to a barbecue and I talked to a 23-year-old girl

who wouldn’t answer my questions.

Then, my friend jumped in, and whisked her away.

“We need to charter a boat and invite some chicks,” he told me. “Do you know any?”

“Not really.”

“You need to get your motorcycle license.”

“I can’t do that,” I told my friend. “I don’t want to be scaped-off the highway.”

“It’s less dangerous if you do it in pairs,” he said.

“I know. You can scrape me off the highway when I’m dead.”

“If you won’t do it, I met somebody else.”


“Yes. He’s a lot like you, but he likes to have fun. You need to get-out of your comfort zone.”

I stay in my job, year after year, trying to be a writer.

My friend, just got a job at Amazon. 12 women are chasing him. They’re all 10s.

I contemplate calling a 5.

What’s the use. She’ll end up telling me what to do.

The optimism of my friend, gives him attractive energy

that the female flowers love.

He pollinates them, like a bee.

I’m somewhere in the manure pile,

trying to be creative.

4 thoughts on “Writing From the Manure Pile

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s