DEAD POLAR BEAR

I walked home the same way everyday. Today was no different. Two blocks from my house, driving would be insanity. Every day I noticed the liquor store and the bikini-clad girls holding giant beer bottles. You know, those cardboard cut-out advertisements they make. But today, I noticed the dead polar bear in the middle of the street.
I live in Florida. And there was no doubt in my mind that there was a dead polar bear in the middle of the intersection of Cross and Main. Cars were lined up like frozen ants. A long, long line. How the hell does that happen?
A construction worker came by. Took one disbelieving glance at the thing and said “We have to move it.” I said no. I said there is no way in hell you are moving that polar bear from out of the middle of the road. He just repeated in his dumbass way “We have to move it.” I wasn’t the fighting type but if this guy and his dumb fucking orange vest was going to try to move that polar bear, the thing that took my wandering eyes off of the beer-holding cardboard broads, then I was willing to fight him. There were a lot of people lined up like ants with a lot of places to go and I knew it wouldn’t be easy. But I was desperate.
I found myself walking to the middle of the street and lying down on top of that polar bear. I felt its fur. It was icy. It was real. Fifteen minutes later, I felt handcuffs being placed on my wrists. They were icy and real too. But I had my fifteen minutes. And I never have to walk those two fucking blocks home again. I never have to fantasize about plastic beer girls again. And I will never be the orange-vested douche-bag who everyone expects to play hero. No one expects anything from the guy who tried to save the dead polar bear.

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

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I WANT TO PUT ON A RED AND BLUE COSTUME AND SWING FROM WEBS IN THE NEW YORK CITY NIGHT

to beat captain stacey to the scene of the crime to beat up the baddies looking for the one
who killed my uncle ben that unforgettable night in the gutters and the vengeance i’d carry
i want to weigh my decisions like a bus full of tourists in one arm and a little girl with pigtails
dangling from the other, i want to know what it’s like to see the world through eight eyes
i want to sense danger and chase danger and weave through the madness – a psychotic vigilante
to delve into science and to stop curt conners from becoming the very opposite of who he truly is
to kiss gwen stacey on the bleachers and to tuck her blonde blonde blonde hair behind her goofy
ears so that i can stare at her blue eyes sitting there above her unforgettable freckles and yeah
i want to climb walls like it was second nature and i want to jump from building to building in
the night light of a great american city, to create intricate webs to sustain the villains and at the end of this writhing monster of a glorious day i want to retire back to my childhood home where aunt may is waiting for me with a warm cup of cocoa and a heart the size of all of this around me

 

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012