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| . |
| Why is it that we put the birth & death date on a tombstone? I mean, are these the two highpoints of our life that we want to be memorialized for? The first one you have no recollection of, except somewhere deep inside you that this shit really hurts! And the death thing, well hell, that’s why you’re lyin’ there in the first place.
I rather have: Wednesday, April 6th, 1959 – aced history test without studying, instead listening to Fats Domino and Buddy Holly for the week prior. Or: Saturday 2:00 AM, February 2nd, 1970 – had Little Richard as a cab fare, got a joint for a tip. Or: Tuesday, August 8th, 1978 – gave Petula Clark the finger and the Ratso “I’m walkin’ here” on 52nd street when she almost ran over him in her limo. And the epitaph – Beloved Father and Husband, well, one out of two ain’t bad, but again, mine should read: Poets should not try to be stand-up comics. Evermore. |
| Life’s highlight: I’m walkin here |
Dyin’ at the Improv by Walter Bjorkman
Filed under Walter Bjorkman
Poets should not try to be stand up comics, but they plumb from the same well. LOL
Nicely done.
Were I to have a marker, I’d want one like this. Great job.
Funny and poignant narrator with a dark sense of humor! The “historical” references were great and gave it a grounding (no pun intended). Good use of the prompt, Walt
Dark humor, nice.
Walter, the concept here is just wonderful–though you’ve offered it in a humorous story. It really touches on our insecurities and our struggle with the ideas of life and death.
I agree with Al. I really like this idea, if I were to have a marker at all.
Thank you ladies & germs, thank you very much for your warm responses. You may catch my next act on the B train, where I will re-enact returning to the womb, don a left over sperm costume from Woody Allen’s Everything You Didn’t Want to Know About Sex, and try to start all over again.
Nightly at Ten, no cover, two drink minimum.
Ha ha ha … this was very smile-inducing. Funny that Petula made the cut.
Or pathetic for me that she was even in contention . . .
This got a physical laugh out loud chuckle from me–thanks!
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