This morning, while driving JP to the nursery…
“Papa, play JP’s song please.”
Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa
“love ma pa”
Not the way that I do
There we were, windows down, the morning air nice and fresh, jamming out to “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. It was a beautiful moment, the two us singing along, happy and carefree.
“Papa, play rock’n’roll!”
Wake up! Grab a brush and put a little makeup!
Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup!
I could see JP in my rearview mirror, fist pumping in the air, head banging in his baby seat. Ah yes, nothing like a little Chop Suey by System of a Down in the morning.
“Rock’n’roll! papa’s song!”
Why’d you leave the keys upon the table? You wanted to.
I don’t think you trust, in my, self righteous…
And we parked. JP was a little bummed that I had to cut the song before his favorite part, but we were already running a little late and I had to get to work.
Roll up the windows. Switch off the car. Get out. Open his door. Pick him up. Shut the door. Lock the car. Walk to the nursery’s front door. Say hello to Jane, Jen and Joan (not their real names) who are in the middle of their daily chat. Walk into the nursery. Walk JP to his class. “Good morning everyone!”. Bribe JP into letting go of my leg “I’ll give you a Kinder surprise later on”. Wave goodbye. Walk fast. Don’t look back (never look back! it’s a trap!). Walk to the car. Nod to Jane, Jen and Joan who are still chatting. Sprint the last few meters. Get in the car. Start the engine. Roll down the windows. Turn up the volume. Pull out of the parking. Jane, Jen and Joan wave goodbye as all 3 (finally) walk to their cars.
…suicide, I cry, when angels deserve to DIE.
That was loud. Maybe too loud. Definitely too loud. At least, that’s what the shocked look on Jane, Jen and Joan’s faces tells me.
Awkward moment? Fuck it.
Father, into your hands, I commend my spirit.
Father, into your hands
why have you forsaken me
In your eyes forsaken me
In your thoughts forsaken me
In your heart forsaken, me oh
Trust in my self righteous suicide
I, cry, when angels deserve to die
In my self righteous suicide
I, cry, when angels deserve to die.