Crime and Punishment

All along the way, and up until today

my brain has purged itself of all that

which is now irrelevantly useless to me.

Good on you, one could say. Mostly,

I have a clear conscience which I carry

around with me most days. Well, on

occasion I still harbor a few regrets, but

all the misdeeds for which I freely admit

a personal responsibility, I can say those

were perpetrated by another me who no

longer has skin in the game. Besides,

the statute of limitations for my crimes

and misdemeanors has expired. I drove

home drunk one day, was never stopped

by the cops, was neither fined, jailed nor

otherwise made to pay. I did, however,

suffer miserably with a hangover next day.

I suppose punishment can be meted out

in a myriad of ways. Then, I do recall Otis

Manchester’s birthday party I attended

when I was ten. His mother blindfolded

me playing Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Donkey.

After spinning me around several times

she asked me if I could see? I said, no

Ma’am, I can’t. (That was an outright lie.)

Hands outstretched, I pinned that paper

tail square on the donkey’s ass. One of

the kid’s yelled out, Not Fair, he cheated;

he could see! I lied again, No, I did not!

I swore to God, and I got the prize. I figure

that’s why today, in my seventy-first year

here on Earth, I suffer from severe pain

in my hips from arthritis. A sign of being

served my just desserts, I suppose. The

Almighty can forgive a pitiful drunk,

but a liar and cheat he (or she) simply

cannot abide. Now, here’s the pathetic

part—I don’t even remember what in hell

the prize was at the time. Talk about working

in mysterious ways.

Chris Hanch 8-16-17