storytime

No one home, empty house sitting alone,
so I go and wash the car,
just before midnight,
didn’t want to go to the bar,
but then Minx was waiting around,
when I finally showed up,
told me we were going to the club.
Didn’t argue, didn’t complain,
hardly ever see my boy these days,
living in another town,
seems like all of us went our separate ways,
so we stood by the street,
waiting for his boy C.O.D.,
to swoop us up in his big white truck.
Bass thumping, people talking,
some dude and ladies I didn’t know,
black hair and brown skin,
actually I think I seen that one before,
working at some store around town,
Anishinaabe, or at least Ojibwe,
stepping out, try to erase my frown.
So Rye and Cor and an Eva Mendez clone,
all rolling with us down the street,
they decide to go to Club 623,
but the place was packed to the gills,
so we wandered over to the Irish pub instead,
C.O.D. leaving to pick up Cece,
we belly up and buy some kinda swill.
Tasted like shigwe, kinda like bile,
the clientele young and hip,
wearing multi-colored tattoos and drunken smiles,
I took over the jukebox with my cuzn’s money,
and of course all the zhaagnosh trying so hard,
to look cool and trying not to stare,
but how often do they see real skins anywhere?
Of course I was sporting my casino tee,
has a nice cut, helps hide my gut,
not trying to advertise, money I’ll never see,
try no to hate, just the way things are,
but everyone just assumes that we all get loot,
just because we were lucky enough,
to come into this world part of some tribe.
Forget what you heard, doesn’t mean a thing,
I don’t get squat and I don’t expect I ever will,
just another brown face in a sea of otherwise,
but for a few short minutes I ran the show,
fed my bills and ordered up some songs,
everyone singing along to music of my choosing,
Weezer, Marley, the Ramones and Al Green,
Johnny Cash, Iron Maiden, even some Queen.
The rest of the crew left and came back,
tried to get into Club 623 one last time,
while my cuzn and I chatted about this and that,
the ladies ordered us to drink up, we fell in line,
Minx told me, “don’t ask, do as you’re told,”
why should I start now, never been one to question,
pretty ladies ordering me, just consider it done.
So we headed back out, stopped at the store,
ran into a couple more skins, hanging out outside,
friends of someone’s, John and Ron, both from G.R.,
so they jumped in with us as well, the more the merrier,
drove down to the Southside to play some pool,
Cece was busy spitting some game, didn’t even notice,
I was just hanging out, having fun, drunken bliss.
The Southside was dead, just lined some drinks up,
slammed Blue Moons, PBR’s and Bud Lights,
had some kamikazes as well, figured what the hell,
then Cece gave me some more of her sob story,
her old man never let her out of his sight,
stay-at-home mom, finally lined up a babysitter,
more and more sounded like she wanted a pinch-hitter.
I took what she said at face value,
walked her over to her sister’s,
even gave her a twenty so she could pay,
twenty minutes, thirty minutes, trickled away,
then some boys started giving me some grief,
“You know where you are? You in the Downs”
smack talking, while circling me all around.
Told them I was just waiting for a friend,
don’t mind me, just doing my thing,
a Detroit boy playing Good Samaritan,
more smack from the capitol city boys,
kept fronting, kept implying and prying,
finally realized that this was a crackhead crew,
finally accepted that I got played by Cece too.
So I walked half a mile down to the MotorLodge,
trying to catch up with Minx and everyone else,
nice little walk, whatever, no big deal,
still can’t believe that little city crew trying to front,
I grew up at 8 Mile and Outer Drive,
you chumps wouldn’t have lasted a day,
but I kept on keeping on, went on my way.
I strolled up to room 129, heard noise from outside,
pow wow stickers all over their rides,
cousin Connie let me in, said hey, “whats up?”
saw Henry sitting on the bed,
Art over on the other,
Mickey and T’s niece chilling with her girls,
and a bunch of other folks I don’t even know,
Henry’s girl was taking my pic,
so he tells me I gotta go.
C.O.D. and Minx showed right back up,
grabbed me and threw me into the truck,
said we were going to the 49 over at Zeke’s,
fine by me, seem to keep running into trouble,
I’m not out looking for anything,
just looking for fun,just too naive,
handing out unwarranted trust,
been burned and used, heart ground into the dust.
So we chilled at Zeke’s until the sun came up,
just kicking back, talking some smack,
nothing else happened of note,
should have went there from the word go,
but it was interesting just the same,
just to see other people in their own domain,
and to remind myself that we humans are insane.
The only difference is what flavor of crazy,
makes you feel most at home,
American Indian, middle-American, collegetown,
the names and faces are interchangeable,
what we do in secret or otherwise,
merely laughable, just humans being human,
laughing and joking on the road to ruin.