*Listen to “VDay” performed on “Twenty5”(2012), available for download here: http://www.mediafire.com/?444vh5g3xdzn00c
Its always the same from those unknown and intimate strangers.
I’m hit with a “happy bday” to avoid the very present danger—
being gifted meaningful words.
Though, however absurd it is of me to expect such things,
it never fails that birthdays bring
the most ironic redundancy.
And again, maybe it’s selfish of me to expect such things,
but on birthdays when the phone annoyingly rings
I know the scripted standard,
and it begins a little like “Heeeyyy Verandah”
(I’m usually close to vomiting by then)
Old college pals, people I haven’t seen since we were ten—
they all gather round from the infinite darkest corners away from the sun.
And then there are some who’ll come that have remained in my immediate peripheral.
However difficult it always is to put up with the charade, I stomach it and I always charismatically say,
“Hey man, thank you. It means a lot to me”.
When quite honestly
it moves me to frustrated tears…
I’ll be frank and admit the innumerable years Ive waited to be given real words on a birthday.
Waited for someone to come along and opt to NOT say
the words happy
in any form of compound with any regards to which comes first—
I’ve yearned for said gift.
But from the lips and over anxious fingertips of those near and virtually present,
I take the happy bdays and I’ll swear then I’ve learned the same damn lesson—
“Next year Verandah, you’re gonna ask for a puppy. Just give up on the words thing.
Just give up on obsessing what people clearly aren’t feeling.
Start superficially dealing with birthdays the way all the other normal humans do—
Crave attention, get beautiful…
be obnoxious with delight from nosebleeding rooftops.
Eat some cake, have a drink, self-gift, shop,
but just stop with that other stuff.”
I’ll swear then that I’ve had enough with my own seemingly unreasonable requests.
I suppose they are a tad large unreasonable.
An advocate for Lucifer will suggest, “At least I acknowledged you though”…
Point somewhat proven.
I’m not an advocate for people being guilted into doing something that isn’t generic thinking of their own.
Which is why this poem—
probably should have never seen the light of day.
But it IS my birth’s day, not mine, and there IS no time more appropriate than the present—
casting aside all wanting of gifts of incredibly impressive
absolutely expressive set of feelings
just for me being alive.
Next year Verandah, strive to keep your own word.
But in the meantime, a very happy, happy bday baby girl.