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04/01/09 - (1)
April Fools'
For a week, at least, leading up to April Fools' Day, I tried out as many as a dozen pranks and fibs, But my brain fell for none of them,
Which left me in a rather untenable place, Since I'm the kind of guy, if you know what I mean, Who likes to get a person's goat, with a good stretcher,
The more mendacious the better; Even a little maliciousness and/or vandalism, for good measure, Never hurts, is how I see it, especially among friends.
After all, how can you tell who your friends really are If you don't stick it to them, real good, With a red-hot poker up the A-hole or the one-eyed trouser worm,
To see if they can put your bullshit behind them, Forgive and forget that you caught them with their pants down — You know, see if they turn the other cheek, so to speak,
Recite, from Animal House, the fraternity-pledge initiation mantra "Thank you, sir! May I have another?," Show they're capable of putting up with you, no matter the pain?
But despite all the trial-balloon lies and stunts I floated, To sucker my mind into believing that April 1 Was the beginning of the End Times, Apocalypse, Armageddon,
It wouldn't bite, take the bait — hook, line, or stinker. But once that Wednesday arrived, I hit upon a new scheme, Took a radical tack, to convince my psyche it was doomsday:
I wouldn't let my body get out of its sweaty bedsheets, Pretended, instead, that rigor mortis had escaped a nightmare And hidden in my bone marrow, the DNA of every cell.
For perhaps three hours, I lay low, not twitching a muscle, Waiting to see how my mind would respond to my prank, Especially since it was such a stickler for getting to work, on time.
But when, at 9:30, I shouted "April Fools'!" triumphantly And tried to rouse my brain from its somnolence, it played dead. That was two weeks ago. It still hasn't stirred.
04/01/09 - (1)
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