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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue of cc&d (v233) (the June 2012 Issue - the 19 year anniversary issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the Mission (issue edition) cc&d 2012 collection book		get the 228 page May - August 2012 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

We All Gotta Start Somewhere

Bruce Matteson

You’re going to ask me and the truth is I don’t know how or why but,
The kids from emergency services got there before I did
And made me go to the back of the line, even though there wasn’t one
They had bags
But no medicine
Just crackers, some jack which, they said
Was for personal use and a virtual questionnaire which was
Neither private nor relevant except for the nature of my complaint
And even then I said (being a bit of a smart ass) I wasn’t really a complainer but
I hadn’t been properly fucked for nearly twelve years
And that, they noted, exceeds the definition of a dry spell
I should have studied Latin, I mused aloud
I could have made a living and not bothered the little boys
They weren’t my type though they weren’t bad looking but
When I asked what they were rummaging through their pockets for
And they both said “a saw”
I changed the subject to do like my daddy said
And save myself though that was after the redhead had said
She wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire for Jesus
But before the considerate one told me
The only reason she came to this neighborhood
Was comparison shopping and to try out her GPS
Then she tased me to make sure her batteries were good
And wrote something down
Their professional conduct was so effective that
Before I realized they were treating me,
I was bandaged head to toe and laced up to a
Conveniently nearby porch swing
That is when I might have gotten a little whiny
Trying to convince them that I posed no threat which, as it turned out,
Is exactly why, they said, they were practicing on me
And that they couldn’t go back to dispatch one more time
With all of their gauze in neat little rolls so of course
That’s when they got the call, and also why I was late getting here,
Because they were real nice about it and said I’d been great and all
And were even a little sorry
But they had to go right then and
They left me like that. I still would have been there,
if wild dogs hadn’t chewed me loose and I figured
it would warm their overly blessed little hearts
To see what their work looked like with a little blood on it so,
I had an agreeable passerby shoot a pic with an I-phone and
Send it to my computer so that I could photo shop it and send it to them
In an e-mail that said “how do I look now?”
And their prompt reply was,
“Properly fucked!”

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