Blackhumouristpress's Blog

September 18, 2012

I Play the Piano

Filed under: humor,Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 6:01 am
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It’s not my job to say too much.  In fact I can’t say anything.  I just play the piano.  People wear nice clothes here and they smell good to mask the fact that maybe they don’t smell so good.  They all have on those nice watches so that when someone asks what time it is, they can tell them.  I don’t need to know the time, man.  My office is this piano that goes back to the days of prohibition back before inhibition and extinction.  We were on our way up then and didn’t know it.  Oh yes, you had the temporary set back of a decline and a depression solved by a world war that lead us into prosperity and a fear of communism.  I miss communism.  It was so simple then.  Half the world hated us and half hated them and you were either black or white and it was all just a chess game.  If you were raggedy with a scraggly beard, maybe you liked Che.  Maybe you thought Fidel had merit.  God bless him if you believe in god for creating a ban on American products.  1955 Chevy Bell-Airs roaming around Havana like it’s still the days of prosperity, two kids, a car and a two-week vacation.  Ike played golf and GM made a lot of cars for the whole world to drive.  We were on the way up and now we are on the way down.  I never learned to play a violin and so all I can play is this piano while Americana rots, decays and burns like decadent Rome.  A noble thought that people from all over could come together and become a new people.  It almost worked in Yugoslavia.

I owned one car and it was a Yugo.  I bought it for $5,000 in 1987 and at $93.00 a month, I owned nothing by 1992.  Tito’s car and the shinning beacon of the Communist curtain… Well fuck that shit.  It was a Fiat anyway and now they’re bound to fuck things up for Chrysler.

The first time I made love was in a Chrysler Newport.  It was a 1971 and it was huge.  You could fit four in the front and four in the back comfortably.  We watched three movies at the drive-in in Van Nuys.  She was a swell gal.  Her eyes would roll back like she was in a trance and her tits would do the windmill.  How is it that two tits go opposite directions at the same time?  How does the right know to go counter clockwise and the left to go clockwise?  I guess it depends on which side you’re on.  We fucked in that car with the radio on and heard Nixon step down for the good of the country.  I couldn’t help as I was pounding away on that girl whose name I forget, thinking that Nixon sounded like dioxin and toxin all at the same time.  So what if Nixon and Dioxin was a toxin.  So you get cancer.  That cannot be Dick’s problem.  We’re like time bombs.  All programmed to stop working at some point in time.  We go on doing this and that and planning for years and decades ahead not knowing what’s taking place inside of us.  I’m playing a sweet tune as background music and you’re growing something in your asshole that is going to spread throughout your body like dandelions.

I miss the days of carefree living.  A walk anytime of day and mom to take care of the basics and essentials.  You swam upstream to have me and have told me that I am the prettiest human to have ever walked the planet.  God had a plan for me, right?  I hope god loves the piano.  I hope god loves Sinatra and Bacharach and even Billy fucking Joel.  If his plan for me was to play the piano, he made me into a trained pony to go round and round for nameless and faceless individuals to take a spin with me for the night on their quest to hide and run from the mundane existence that is man…  Fuck it, I’m playing Nirvana on a grand piano and nobody knows and nobody cares.  I just play the piano.

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