Rabelais High

Rabelais High

       by High-minded Douglas Dork-Hamm

             

                                                    i

                                    might be tempted by the thoughts of zeus       

                        thinning hair is not a problem with this noisome group

                        nor is food they eat at will and what they will

                        neither cabbage carrots fish lentils nor soup

                        they don't gather what they sow and won't give cost a thought

                        whenever they are at a loss for words they throw in omg

                        a cap on backward with the visor slung down low upon the neck

                        a skirt not long enough to cover up the lingerie and butt

                        middle riffs and pushed up breasts galore with all that see through skin

                        precious skin available for any boy pimply or not and any thumbs and eyes

                        swift and boublay or how you spell his name

                        and beiber jones and pretty little liars spells that keep them from despair

                        when it comes it comes in swoops and always causes a tumult and stir

                        quick communicated via texts and not no longer telephone for the most part

                        the slickest way to tell the world a secret and what's brewing on the heart

                        if i was god i wouldn't change a thing not one damn thing not one damn single thing

Falsies. I use them to make my little breasts appear bigger, of course. I know it's silly to you but not to me. You see, I am intent on growing older so the other girls won't pick on me. That's it exactly. Notice me in a way that is.... No, not notice me. Not notice me. That's it exactly. If you don't have average or bigger boobs you can't be part of the deciding about things because nobody pays you any attention. It's like being unattractive. You can't look bland or have small ones and be listened to. I want to be heard. This is where Norman's thoughts started, and then they moved to others.

       Norman Weber had five cents less than he needed for the fare. The driver checked and noticed and without a word stopped and opened the door and looked back at him and wouldn't drive on until Norman got off. Watching the bus disappear made him depressed. He walked the four miles home in the suburb of Transcona, showered, ate sandwiches and drank chocolate milk. Then, after watching some TV, he lay down on the throw rug in the living room and slept. He would get up in time to be awake till five a.m. 

(to be continued)