only take half
Only Take Half
by cassandra dallett
That’s what my Mom said
She said take half a Valium
when your feeling crazy
She said its enough to
take the edge off
I figured feeling extra crazy
insecure jealous anxious
ready to burst into tears randomly
that more is always better,
So I took three washed down
with Seagram’s Gin and Pink Grapefruit
then took my underage boyfriend Steve
to pick up his friends-
one of the things
that drove me nuts
I felt like someone’s Mom
not someone’s girl
dropping him off, picking him up
the only one with a car,
and a place of my own
but I had nothing better to do
with my Friday night and hoped
they would party at my house
instead of disappearing
into some party
I wasn’t invited to
full of young girls
I would want to beat up
when we got back to the house
Steve and his friends
were drinking, playing music
and arguing about the superiority
of East coast rap
the usual
something set me off
I guess he was ready to leave
so I started a fight with him
drunk now I slammed him by his shirt
into the wall
he looked away from me
told me I was crazy
I knew that, that was my problem
but I did end up going to the party with them
refusing to pay the cover
I resorted to my California tactics
of flirting with the door guy
who was non-plussed
he kept following me around
asking for the money
in a really annoyed way
the whole thing was lame in my opinion
so I took over somebody’s vodka-punch
and sat bitterly sipping it
I hated vodka
never actually drank it
without blacking out
and starting fights
I was a gin and juice girl
way before Snoop Dog came out
with the song
when the cops came
to bust up the party
the chick throwing the party
told Steve to make me leave
so I punched her in the face
I didn’t know the doorman was her boyfriend
I just didn’t want her to think anyone,
let a lone a 19 year-old kid
could tell me what to do
When the cops grabbed me
Mike Cooper one of Steve’s friends
threw a beer in the cops face
and I was able to wrestle away
from the cops headlock
and half the party kicking
the shit out of me
for punching their friend
I ran for the stairs
the party was in an attic
the stairway a narrow dizzying tube
I stomped down a blur of
black boots and green rain suit
stuck to my sweaty body
more cops stood at the bottom
threw me in a squad car
my ole-school car was parked
in a red zone
I threw Mike Cooper my keys
and asked him to bring it home
At the station
they gave me a Drunk and Disorderly
sited me out
I walked home
freezing
cold sweat in plastic
hardly sober
Mike Cooper
did bring my car home but
side-swiped the neighbors car
and had to hide it a couple blocks over
I went to bed
the phone rang
one of my roommate’s friends from jail
He was drunk
arrested for a fight at the club
I guess I felt sympathetic
cause I got up and looked for my car
lay on the frigid seat
and smashed the overhead light
with my boots
it wouldn’t shut off
cause the door couldn’t shut
it was dented
from my neighbor’s car
I made it to the South Side police station
went in
to the possibility
of being arrested again
two cops hauled him out
let go
he fell straight forward
face on floor
they pulled him up and handed him over
stood arms crossed behind
bullet proof glass
and watched us leave
In the morning
more cops
woke me up
the neighbors had called
the paint from my car matched
the dent on theirs
hungover I told the cops
I couldn’t have done it
I’d been in jail
They left
pissed
and I
went back to bed
crazier then ever.
Whoa! I just got hit by an old rusty ford hauling a shit-ton of chickens in cages. The valium didn’t work, maam, obviously.
dank
If poetic form should take on the role of gesture — contexualizing the intended content of words into a non-verbal sense of semantics — this long rambling mess is perfect. I like it.