Grandfather

I learned early that I’d never be the king of anything.

I can for damn sure live with that the short time

I have left. Nobody needs to tell me what I am, and

I don’t have the time of day for a notion so foolish

as who. Leave that horseshit to the pansies.

I know only that I was born a small man and never had

much of an appetite, but I got by, even if I didn’t do

diddly with what I had and never amounted to a hill of beans.

I guess you could say my old man was something of a

prophet on that count. All the same, I have no

use for a preacher trying to make something tidy of

my time in this disgraceful place. I got no use for

monkey business, period. But since you asked what I need,

I’ll tell you: Give me five minutes of peace and quiet

and remember whatever the hell you want. And when time

washes its hands of me just let anybody who might be curious

know that I’m gone. Tell them that long ago I came to the

crossroads and chose the wrong damn fork. Happens all

the time. Tell them I never wanted much except to sleep

when I was tired. And tell them I was a goddamn liar.

Tell them I was the hungriest man who ever lived.