Monday, July 9, 2012

Have you ever shot fireworks before?

I was drunk off of moonshine
Given to me from a glass flower vase
With whole peaches in the middle of it
I thought it was vodka at first.
As I bit into a peach reluctently
But not as reluctantly as I should have.
When he told me what it was
Pouring me a very hardy class
Typically an amount allotted for rum
I gulped it down, as greedily as sense allowed,
So that I did not appear pathetic, and to get it over with.
It hit me like a meat frezzer
It was what those mint gum commercials
Claim there bullsiht makes you feel.
I was shot out of a cannon. 
Everything on moonshine
Returns to normal pretty quickly
In that everything makes sense
Compared to everything else
But everything is completely and holistically shifted
In a way, which you can only appreciate
When you are sober again.
We talked drunkenly about shit
Tarot cards and classmates
And catagorizations
And then left in his pickup truck
To visit his family
After a few hours there,
Which I will describe later
We set off to Danny's house
And aforementionedly, spoke of crabs
We then entered a shed
The size of a small warehouse
About 50 feet from his house.
Where I was asked a pun
So rotten, that Twain and Shakesphere
Would curse its existence
Have you ever shot fireworks before?
I had shot of bottle rockets
So embellished and said I did
But Kant was right about lying
I realized, as I was quickly given
A shotgun, about as big as me.
They smiled at me, knowingly
Wordsmith hicks, reveling in my
Illiterate northern counscious
I felt like I was on drugs
Feeling the ill effects
Of some juxtaposed misunderstanding
As they smiled down on me
Lovingly but teasingly
Saying subconsciously,
"You're in our world now"
We made our way back into the feild
They walked, fireworks in hand
While I wobbled, under the weight
Of the shotgun and the moonshine
Which had come back in this moment
Of weakness, senseing my low immunity
I also carried a jar of homemade honey
Stuck into my arms, in a selfless manner
That I dont think I can replicate.
I looked at it like it was a baby
Stuck into my arms
By a women screaming
"He is your son"
I realized I couldn't say no
But that the airlines would not allow
Me to carry this on board.
But that I would poop
Liquid diarrhea, if I tried to eat this much
Honey, while in Texas.
So, I said nothing
And made my way into the field.
Still not quite sure
If I was wrapping my head properly
About what was going to happen
I needed to reaffirm what I was dong
Multiple times, while we were in the feild.
I even needed to reaffirm what I had just done
After I drunkenly hit a firework, falling on my ass
From the kickback of the shotgun.
Throwing fireworks into the air.
The really big, illegal kind
With a tractor nearby, if a fire started.
We laughed, mainly at my initiation
As Anton's brother and Danny's son
Lit and threw many fireworks into the air
As we all alternated shooting them
Aiming, as instructed .7 seconds
Ahead of where the fireworks was gonna be.
Some seven feet diagonally up.
And hitting them, they exploded like
You would expect fireworks to,
Only on our command, and much closer
Then they would normally.
Multiple jokes were made
Mainly jokes about the pun
And my hymen being broken
We were all drunk, laughing.
As the fireworks we hit,
And the ones we missed
Exploded overhead,
Or veered of into some
Undetermined direction
Some hit trees, some fell normally
One flew into his pond with a splash
One hit his house with a thud
And we decided, all running towards
The house, making sure it was not asunder
That we would continue this
Or something like it, tomorrow.
We drove off waving goodbye
As I pocketed an empty cartilage shell
From the hit I made,
Which was handed to me by Danny's son,
As we shook hands.
So now I fell like I am always in a privileged position
When someone in the future asks
Have you ever shot fireworks before?

1 comment:

  1. wow! that is so cool! you hit one?! no way!