Do What You Feel Friday!: Scrape Away Your Dignity

November 30, 2007 at 4:44 pm | Posted in DWYFF!, Lowell | 5 Comments

paperclip.jpgToday we return to Do What You Feel Fridays, with much aplomb. So much aplomb that you’ll hardly be able to stand it.

And we do so, dear readers, with poetry.

This is a little diddy Lucy the Dog likes to call, “My Paperclip”.

“My Paperclip”

I call you friend, I call you lover.
I call you sister, I call you brother.
You are my paperclip.
And tonight you will bend and contort and sacrifice those sexy curves, my paperclip.
You will do it for me.
You will go straight and narrow so that I may walk a crooked path that momma said was wrong.
But we know better, don’t we paperclip?

We have been here before, you and I. We have walked this path.
We have felt shame and we have endured the harsh judgment of our peers.
But we have endured, paperclip. Have we not?
And we feel shame no more.

For judgment day is nigh, or maybe it’s near.
But any way you scrape it, our judgment day is here.

We have exhausted the possibilities.
Tapped all of our resources.
Run out of gas.
And we will not weep. We will not hang our heads.

‘Fuck that shit,’ paperclip says. ‘Put me in the game. Let me do my thing.’

I did you wrong, paperclip. But what could I do?
I knew when Lil’ Huge moved to New York that bumpy times a-waited.
And when Jimmy decided to focus on his waitering career instead of dealing, that signaled troubled waters fo’ sho’.

It ain’t like it used to be.

The cup has run dry.
The shelves are all bare.
That little Tupperware container is hollow and empty.
And there’s only one place to turn.

That’s to you, little paperclip. But you’re not so little.
You stretch and reach where mere mortals can not.
You grasp for the remains of what has been and what still could be, if only to a lesser and perhaps duller degree.

So tonight it is you and tonight it is me.
And that glass bowl we call “Mach”, well Mach will make three.
Do your magic on Mach, my lean metal friend.
Get in there and scrape, chip away to the end.

I know you got skills. We don’t need to defend.
It’s our way of life. We do what we do.
If some find it pathetic, those some can go screw.

Because desperate times call for desperate measures.
And you, sturdy paperclip, can find hidden treasures.
Tonight is your destiny, head to the mine.
Dig away paperclip, and see what you find.

There’s Lake Winapausakee. There’s the Pats and Colts game.
There’s Chien Min Wang getting rocked. And there it is again.
So many memories, so much good cheer.
If you can’t find enough, then I’ll have to drink beer.

‘Fuck that shit,’ says paperclip. And he says it once more.
‘Do you doubt me now? Have I failed you before?
Just let me stretch out so that I can be nimble. And don’t confine me to a rhyme scheme. I thought this was supposed to be like Russell Simmons Def Jam and shit. Where’d we get so far off track?’

Oh, you’re right little paperclip. I shoulda trusted you better.
Sometimes I fall into society’s rules.
They tell me my poems should rhyme.
They tell me I can’t have my dope unless I KNOW somebody. On a discrete and shady level, they say I gotta KNOW somebody.
But I’m 32 years old now, paperclip! And I don’t know NOBODY!
What’s a 32-year-old to do? Go on Craigs List? Just approach a seedy looking character here on the streets of Lowell and ask that somebody if they know somebody? And which seedy looking character would I pick from the streets of Lowell? The choices are endless.

They say it’s wrong, paperclip.
But like you say, Fuck that shit.
Tonight it’s us, kid. One last chance at glory.
What will the days that follow bring? Let’s not even go there.

For tonight, paperclip. Tonight we scrape.
Tonight we relive yesterday as if there was no tomorrow.
Tonight it is Friday. We do what we feel.



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  1. That is the saddest poem since “To an Athlete Dying Young.” And the awesomest blog post ever.

  2. There isn’t much more to add to what has been said already. Well done, sir, well done.

  3. Speechless. This poem brought a tear to my eye.

  4. made me want to run up to lowell and help a brother out… but i won’t

  5. […] without the pope and articles like this. Perhaps, Benedict is correct. Then again, I prefer this piece on world peace and paper […]

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