Gettin’ The Corn Up

Jan 15, 2020-Diary entry: Hey everybody, Paulie here, out in the Midwest, feeling the fields, the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye baby, and Paulie’s goin’ into town tonight, gonna get his ears roasted for sure, there won’t be anything left on the cob, Paulie is gonna get cooked and chewed on like the raccoons are running the corn county fair, this will be Paulie’s night, fresh cigarettes, a fresh pack of cards, and a lady who bets on nothing except desire, a white hot burning desire to inflame a young handsome Paulie, will she succeed this night, this darker than usual night in which there is a strange coldness in the air, a cold thing that is odd in an other-worldly sort of way, anyway, Paulie dealt his usual cards to the pretty lady across the table, she accepted them graciously and made a bet, I returned her advance and upped the ante all the way, to see if she would flinch, she didn’t, she called my bluff, I felt weak, maybe I had gone too far, I stared coldly into her two beautiful sparkling orbs of utter delight, her eyes melted my steely facade like a fat guy in the steam room sitting on a butter sandwich, I didn’t know what to do so I called to Joe the bartender to bring another platter of drinks, and don’t spare the ice, I felt like the last cornstalk standing, and I was facing a diesel powered corn picker that was hungry for Paulie’s little niblets, I was like a deer in the tractor’s headlights, the most magnificent fog lights I had ever seen, that cut through my mental haze and left me dazzled, I felt like freshly poured Champagne, all bubbly, would this mesmerizing Midwest lady of the fields come into the farmhouse hot, moist, and burnt from the sun, and see Paulie, and thirst for Paulie’s tall, sweaty, foam-like countenance; Joe set the drinks down on the table and said “That’ll be ten eighty”, I leaned back and said “Put it on my tab Joe”, “I’m in the middle of something”, “Maybe I’ll see you on the other side, and then, maybe I won’t”, then I looked back across the table and I was the deer again, unable to look away from this bright shiny object bearing down on me, this high speed heavenly comet screaming down at me, whose tail lit up the night like nothing I’d ever ever seen before, I offered her my Champagne, she said she wanted something more, something she doesn’t have on the galaxy she’s from, she offered to carry me on her light, back to a place where time doesn’t matter, where time and space are irrelevant, where reason and logic are thrown out like old tin cans and old ideas, she had a new idea, one this world had never known, an idea which we would share, anyway, some people say corn country is a crock of boredom or that it is full of lazy minded corn dogs who only lie on the stoop and bark at the moon, but when the corn is as high as an elephant’s eye and Paulie heads to town, anything can happen, shalom to my brothers and sisters, I send you sweet corn wishes, and to the rest of you, I send you a sour mashed “Go to hell”…

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