Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches Will the court please rise for
The Honorable Judge Mentcertain
Presiding in the case of:
(THE STATE OF I, SELF-ACCUSED)
( vs. )
(MY IGNORANCE OF A CRIME)
Knowing my actions can not be justified, I swear by God and my right hand not to suppress corpus delicti and it will be the truth, whole truth and nothing but the truth to which I testify. I am the only witness here to the crime of which I’m about to confess. But first let it be stated that albeit a crime without malice, the defense is requesting the court to reward no quarter at trial’s end.
I have been
an accomplice in
the slaughtering of someone
who used to call me friend.
When I was a kid
the boy who lived across the street
was my best friend
and everything we did
we did together as altruists.
Catch with the baseball,
bubble gum games
while walking home from the store.
We collected bottle tops
and match box cars
and made up scary stories in the dark
while sleeping over at each others house.
We were cleverish and at times downright devilish,
so finding trouble together
was another thing that we did.
And like all friends we fought,
but best friends always made up.
That was us
frolicking chums,
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at noon,
cartoons on the television after school,
kick-the-can champs of the block,
elementary school confidants.
For years it stayed the same
then along came life
in the sixth grade.
(When I look in the past
things seem to have happened to fast,
almost all at once.
And between he and I
that’s how it was -
early morning buddies
beginning a sunshine day
ending in a late afternoon rain
that left us asking
“who the hell are you?”
So fast,
lightning quick
a finger snaps
and PUFF……
a day is gone forever.)
How could I’ve been so horribly cruel
as I was to my friend during that sixth year of school,
the year that he stayed the same,
the year I thought I turned cool,
the year that forgot
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too.
You see, he was different and everyone knew,
for not to notice his bright orange hair, countless freckles
and thick black eyeglasses held by dirty white tape at the nose or the temple
one would have to be blind or a fool. And boy was he noticed at school.
The kids would scoff, “Yo, carrot top, you eat carrots a lot?”
or address him as Buttons, Sketon, or Foxx,
anything that could have been said
using the words orange or red
was said to poke fun at the hair on his head.
“The red head is dead, the red head is dead,..”
was day after day after day said to my friend.
Some kids would even pick fist fights with him
and when they did he would run home
or tennis shoe knock on a strangers front door
for help or to use their phone.
And when they couldn’t get too him they would come after me instead,
because I was his friend and he wouldn’t stand and fight like a man.
That was okay, I fought back, earned some respect and got tough that way.
But today I can see that any lumps I received could not have compared
to the pain that came with the laughter, everyday laughter.
Laughter, non-stop laughter. Not provoked, just a joke, laughter.
Laughter, names, laughter.
One day finally I got tired of listening to the laughing and calling of names.
Just being with him became embarrassing. (The running and clucking on doors
like a big orange chicken.) But it turned out that I was more coward than him.
You see, I didn’t even have the nerve to tell him that I didn’t want to be his friend anymore.
I just stopped talking to him and inviting him over
and instead I made friends with the fist fight kids,
the one’s who made the most fun of red
and ever since then
I never had
anything more to say
to raggedy-andy pumpkin head.
Throughout the rest of my schooling
I did the new group things,
not ever having a snap
or a PUFF of a thought
about how the battle of childhood
was being fought
alone by friend.
The friend I deserted
and left for dead.
So I rest my case,
accept this verdict of guilty
and will gladly serve out this life sentence.
Furthermore,
I find that I will never
have quite the same passion
for that one of a kind taste
of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
(Read 555 times)
[1] 