A pashtich poem by Debbie Frampton and Ernest Hemingway
1998
The old grievance.
It was lousy to enjoy it, but I felt lousy.
I thought I had paid for everything,
but I had been getting something for nothing.
That only delayed the presentation of the bill.
The bill always came.
You gave something up and got something else.
A simple exchange of values. That was morality.
No, maybe that was immorality.
I didn’t care what it was;
all I wanted to know was how to live in it.
They say it’s important to discover graceful exits.
Swell advice.
Try and take it sometime.
Awfully easy to be hardboiled in the daytime,
but at night it’s another thing.
There’s that feeling of going through something that has happened before.
Something I had been through, and that now I must go through again.
Awfully amusing, but not too pleasant.
You know it makes one feel rather good
deciding not to be a bitch.
Damn noble!
Isn’t it pretty to think so?
What rot!
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My favorite aunt giggled through my dad's funeral. Not because she was heartless or uncaring, but because she was sad.
Sometimes laughter covers sorrow, frustration and anger, and can both heal and comfort, lighten and ease. It can lift and encourage. It shows compassion and kindness. Call it healthy, call it unhealthy, but above all, call it misunderstood. I can't tell you how many times I've been told that I don't know the first thing about pain because I laugh. But if I don't laugh, I'll cry (and laughing burns more calories).
This blog is a sister-site to my CTD Diaries. I hope it shows that Crash Test Dummies are people too and that all that crashing can bust a girl up, even if it is just a test.
I first started this blog as a place to post my poetry, stories and other such ramblings from my past, but now I just post whatever. And whenever.
Sometimes laughter covers sorrow, frustration and anger, and can both heal and comfort, lighten and ease. It can lift and encourage. It shows compassion and kindness. Call it healthy, call it unhealthy, but above all, call it misunderstood. I can't tell you how many times I've been told that I don't know the first thing about pain because I laugh. But if I don't laugh, I'll cry (and laughing burns more calories).
This blog is a sister-site to my CTD Diaries. I hope it shows that Crash Test Dummies are people too and that all that crashing can bust a girl up, even if it is just a test.
I first started this blog as a place to post my poetry, stories and other such ramblings from my past, but now I just post whatever. And whenever.
The Crash Test Dummy Get's Real
click here to go to Crash Test Dummy Diaries
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