Balloon

I have a ballon
Red, naturally
That follows
Wherever I go

I took to calling
It Lucy, and
Let it come into
My home

Now, I’m afraid
I’ve made the most
Grave mistake
Of my whole life

For Lucy won’t leave
She’s always hovering,
Right between me
And my wife

We tried having
A romantic dinner,
Just the two
Of us there

But Lucy
Just wasn’t having it,
So she rubbed me
And clung to my hair

Now, try to imagine
My wife’s distress
It left her
Pale and reeling

When Lucy
Came into the bedroom
That night and stuck
Herself onto the ceiling

“That’s it,”
My wife said,
“I’ve had enough!
This balloon has to go.”

She ran and found
A safety pin
But Lucy
Started to grow

She grew and grew
Until she filled
The room
And I couldn’t breathe

When my wife came back
And pricked her side,
Lucy started
To bleed

Pretty soon
The two of us
Were swimming in
Warm balloon blood

And Lucy shrank
Back down, happily
Bobbing along
Just above

Now our home
Is completely ruined
And Lucy still won’t
Go away

She lingers
Just over the bookshelf
Reminding us
Everyday

That one should
Be more careful
Inviting balloons
Into their home

Next thing you know,
The balloon will not go
And you’ll never
Be alone

32 thoughts on “Balloon

  1. Did you ever read โ€œThe Balloonโ€ by Donald Barthelme? This reminded me of that. Yours makes me laugh. Barthelme’s makes my head hurt. In a good way. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

    • I haven’t had much of a problem with addiction to most drugs, except amphetamines, which is the subject of this particular allegory. It got so bad last year that I was regularly going 90-100 hours at a time with no sleep, barely eating, always speeding, and I was so paranoid I didn’t even want to speak to anyone. I was hallucinating, and not in the fun, let’s stare at the wall and see colors kind of way. The fucked up, I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming, alive or dead sort of hallucinations. At times it felt like a physical presence in the room, sitting on the couch, between Chelsy and I, but I’m happy to say I have been off amphetamines for almost a year now, and I’m just starting to cope with it, mostly through writing.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. We all have our personal balloons and they often seem piquant, even frivolous, until the downside appears and reality rears its ugly head.

    Terrific poetry. Hope your experiments don’t become a scourge……it would be a true loss.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Sigh. It was bad enough to be the sort that is afraid of clowns for no other reason than that I read Stephen King’s “It”. Not the movie of course, for it was rather silly. I’ve never actually had a nasty encounter with a clown personally although I know some who have. Now, I may have to add balloons to the list and I’ve always rather liked them before. We shall have to wait and see. Maybe I should fear my imagination (and yours, of course) instead… No, that would be a terrible waste to fear imagination, for what is life without it.

    Liked by 1 person

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