|
|
A. F. (check my dental records) Tigger and Pooh, would make a great start, but this is about Anatanas Frederich, the poet master. Who entered into a love affair love with an octopus and an aardvark just to see what half-ass media remarks would come of it. Friendly were the creatures, especially if he gave them apples, or petted them over the eyes. But this is about how Antanas Frederich writes with terror in his eyes, the terror of losing his wife, after they were together for 20+ years. The chemistry never fading, though she was loquacious to the extreme, she was an ample fuck. Time and time again, he sees the world through her eyes – in 8-bit color like an ancient Nintendo. When he writes, he still does it for her as he did when they first met, and he took her home that night, helped her get undressed, and it began. Seeing her that night, he couldn’t resist the temptations. And the next day he said he was sorry, but she didn’t buy it and just over a month later, they were married permanently. He wrote her a love poem on their special day, on love, on life, forever together it read. Then she got cancer, the doctors said no more beef, so she bought Tofu, and he ate it with her. Twenty years, 7 remissions, and 3 kids later she died. Missed now by her family, but still married in heart and mind to her own great poet, who has to write to stay alive. On he writes attempting to complete his greatest work. And when he dies because he knows he will, under his name on his tomb, they will write – “A Poet to his Final Day.” Only then will he be free to once again be with his wife. And the great and wonderful poet extraordinaire will not have to bring his ‘A’ game to the table, instead allowing others to bring theirs. Still, as the greatest living poet, he feels that he must save his best for the end. Hoping that it comes sooner rather than later, that heaven has nice typewriters and nicer editors. And wishing that his children would get over the rejection feeling of a poet father, who never wanted them to feel unwanted, only he didn’t know how to accomplish such a feat, instead having their mother around for love and support for all sides of this dysfunctional family. But then she died and the kids haven’t been home, so he instead writes his final piece, vowing to never again put pen to paper. |