Moving On - Children of the Children of God

A purple wad of hot bubble gum
just attached itself to my shoe.
I have had so much Powerade over this weekend
I'm starting to pee a light shade of blue.

A wicked sunburn has already scorched
every inch of my poor exposed skin.
I glance down at my watch:
"Shit...Sunday 10:30 AM...I have yet to begin."

I try to smile and wave as with my bucket
carefully down the median I walk.
Yesterday I had the treacherous middle lane.
Today is better...I get to stand on the block.

"Stop beggin' and get a job you lazy bum!",
someone shouts while by his truck I linger.
I pause, then smile and say "God Bless You"
balancing my bucket handle on my middle finger.

Unbeknownst to him, to the occupation issue
I'm giving some serious consideration.
My shepherds argue that collecting chump change
is heralding the great tribulation.

But we all know better though our average age
is probably a mere seventeen or so:
It wasn't coincidence that all the adults
had important ministries so with us they seldom go.

The pain of sweat and SPF 40
in your eyes can almost make you shout
Those of us without 'brows like Joe H
know exactly what I'm talking about.

Temperature is well over 100 Degrees.
Off the asphalt you can see the rising heat.
A window rolls down and I feel the A/C on my face
as the nice lady's dollar my bucket doth meet.

As the money starts to pour in
I'm starting to feel a lot more zealous.
Then again, I've inhaled enough exhaust
to make both Cheech and Chong jealous.

There's nothing more repulsive then
approaching a fluttering dollar from a car
and realizing that an ugly, but-ass naked,
masturbating man turns out to be your benefectar (poetic license invoked on the spelling)

Is that a drop of rain I just felt?
I feel like the jubilant Dodger's player
in Rockwell's "Bottom of the sixth" painting
hoping the skies will grow yet grayer.

But it was just a quick summer shower
so after a break to my rut I've returned
Fridays and Saturdays are tough enough.
The thought of Sundays I have always spurned.

I hear a voice I dread over a megaphone
just when I think things can't get any worse:
"Hey bucket boy! Come over to my police cruiser!"
I comply while under my breath I start to curse.

I guess my heartfelt spiel didn't convince him
'cause now he's inspecting my Florida-issued ID
"I hope you recognize me...I'm not usually this red"
At my joke he's not nearly as amused as me.

So I sit for 10 minutes in his Crown Victoria.
His cop computer doesn't show any warrants pending.
"All right kid, you're clear. I'll let you out.
But not more soliciting or to jail YOU I will be sending!"

"Yes sir, officer. We'll head home right now.
My partner and I will be happy to cease and desist.
We'll never come out (to this intersection) again.
I promise", as I glance down at my wrist.

It's only 1:15 PM and our ride won't soon arrive.
Three hours we must now think of a way kill.
Looks like the cop has salvaged the afternoon.
We'll catch a flick with time leftover still.

Reader's comments on this article
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from mia1
Thursday, April 21, 2005 - 20:02
(Agree/Disagree?)
dude rite on canning sucked!!!!!
(reply to this comment)
from itsxena2u
Friday, April 15, 2005 - 20:52
(Agree/Disagree?)
I went canning until my ninth month of pregnancy with my second child. I would stand in the median with my can covered in colored pictures in one hand and "Somebody Loves You" tracks in the other. I had a half gallon water bottle strapped to my neck that I would refill every hour at the gas station. The longest I ever stood there was about 10 - 12 hours straight with a 30 min break for lunch. This was during the middle of summer in El Paso, TX where the temperatures get well above the 90's and 100's. Every adult in the home had a "budget" thay had to meet regardless of who they were. I worked twice as hard during my last months of pregnancy to raise double my "quota" because I knew I wouldn't be able to raise it for at least 2 months after my delivery!
(reply to this comment)
from loch
Tuesday, April 12, 2005 - 21:15
(Agree/Disagree?)

Thanks for that. You brought back all kinds of bad memories! no, but that's ok, I laughed.

Although, being that you are male, you missed out on getting to see random ugly men masterbate for you, from the front seat of their car.
(reply to this comment)

From Mack
Tuesday, September 20, 2005, 23:49
(Agree/Disagree?)
It's ironic how the money would go from one ugly old man masturbating in the front seat of his car to support another sick old man who spent most of his life masturbating in his room or lawn chair (that is when he was'nt molesting children of course).(reply to this comment)

From ErikMagnusLehnsher
Wednesday, April 13, 2005, 21:15
(Agree/Disagree?)
Thanks. I took the liberty of adding a couple of segments and included your masterbating man scenario. You're right...I never experienced that. I did realize while approaching some old pickup trucks (w/o Air Con) that way to many hicks like to drive around in the buff. That's just wrong. (reply to this comment)

From vixen
Thursday, April 14, 2005, 14:51
(Agree/Disagree?)
It's 'mastUrbate', people!!!(reply to this comment)

From ErikMagnusLehnsher
Thursday, April 14, 2005, 17:14
(Agree/Disagree?)

As Miles would say to Joel Goodman: "Joel, if you can't spell it, you can't do it."

Risky Business (1983)(reply to this comment)

From ErikMagnusLehnsher
Thursday, April 14, 2005, 17:19
(Agree/Disagree?)

*Joel Goodson(reply to this comment)

From Invictus II
Thursday, April 14, 2005, 15:17
(Agree/Disagree?)

I am the captain of my soul; the master of my bait.(reply to this comment)

From or when Invictus gone fishin'
Monday, April 18, 2005, 09:53
(Agree/Disagree?)
Captain of my POLE, master of my bait. :D(reply to this comment)