Halloween In the Front Seat of My Jeep Everyday

Subtitle: Older Than Candy, Wiser Than Chocolate

I've been driving in the rain
For hours
You're late
There must be some misunderstanding.
Phil Collins.

I am the Son of Candy.

The windshield wipers cut my line of vision
Like the circumcising, castrating voodoo witch doctors
Going in to get yet another boy
Hood.

They want those gummy foreskins
I bet they chew them around the fire
And tell tales of the dark
Just to keep their dicks hard for their wives.

Sometimes the rain brings you out like me
Or maybe the not so sunny climate of your family life
Drives you to me
Anyway I am here to pick you up.

I first see your shiny eyes in the headlights
Deer and doe eyes
And you are caught
And can not look away.

In no time we are side by side
And you peer into the window I have half way down
Because on nights like this I can not stand the smell of myself
Fear needs it ventilation shaft.

I ask if you like candy
And you say that you do
They all like candy
The hard kind with the creamy center.

It is this simple and our journey begins
We are two kindred souls
I am running away from something
And you are running toward something.

I will drive as fast as I can
So you can get there quicker
You are so beautiful in the dark
I can smell you too now. I must put the window all the way down now.
You smell worse than me.

I smell your father's abuse
I sense the tingling
I ascertain the gym happenings with your coach
They have been so busy
Grooming you for this night.

They drove you to the depot
I just picked you up.
And yes you love candy
And I have a lap full of it.
It is so hard just like you like it.  The creamy centers
Are the best you say.

Yeah go on
Get you another piece of that candy
You can have three or four pieces if you like
You been getting three meals a day, is all
Counting what your brother's been doing to you
It is candy dessert time now.  I can see you are starved.

It is like swallowing Heaven
Before Hell starts in.

You rode all those inches to get to me
You down to your last mile now
You are ready to let go
In your six years of living
You put in more appearances than Marilyn Monroe
You clocked more stage time than Madonna
Monica's stained dress had your name written on it.

I got your ticket in my hip pocket
It is long and shiny
It will slice
Your life in the star twinkling of an eye
And you will wake up home.

Oh, no
Not again
It hurts so good
I don't understand.
Rod Stewart.

I been crying in the rain for hours
You're late
There must be some misunderstanding.
Phil Collins.

I am the Father of Candy.

The sun is out today, not a cloud in the sky
Cotton candy land
Tootsie roll pops.

You drift away from your gang of school friends
And begin your lonely walk home
I can tell by your stride
That you are not going to a happy place.

I so much want to comfort you
I so much want to offer you my candy.
I pull up and our eyes meet
We see each other reflected
And you know that I am your friend.

You need a lift to where I am going
You need a ride to where I am taking you.

Chocolate kisses.
You a cute little Afro-American boy
That big red candied apple
Got you really interested.

It is on the end of that hard stick
Nut coated and sweet and juicy
As you take another bit
Soon you will have it taken to the core.

Sometimes they like my candy
Sometimes they like my fruit.

You haven't said a word
But I can hear you
You are telling me about all those nights
With the babysitter
And all those evenings with your step-father
Playing hide and seek
Before your mom comes home
Working down at the hospital
Scrubbing the floors to send you to college.

You just been accepted at the College of Hard Knocks
Your test scores
Were the highest
My fly has ever registered.

Let us get you ready
For freshman orientation
You will need to wear this little leather cord around your neck
Close your eyes
The next time you open them
You will be receiving a Doctorate
Surely Hell will graduate you cum laud.

Oh, no
Not again
Hurts so good
I don't understand.
Rod Stewart.

I been dying in the rain for hours
You're late
There must be some misunderstanding.
Phil Collins.

I am the Grandfather of Candy.

My sack is empty.
My candy is all gone.

I have been here for eighteen years
I am out of time
I have gone through the drill several times
It is simple enough.

It is like walking into the lights of a car at night
I have been too busy to get out much.
I never went and got me any candy
I was always too busy giving it out.

My daddy gave it to me
Just because his daddy had given it to him
He told me.
We all had candy.
It was hard candy.
It tasted good but left a bitter taste in your soul.

It was sweet
But robbed you of being a boy.
It was candy what made you a man
And grew you up too quick.

It was like a day old sucker
Red hots.  And orange slices.
The peanut brittle breath touching your shoulders
As the Zero bar grabbed you down there.

It was candy
Sweeter than Bit O Honey
That bit at first like a knife
But the scar scabbed up real quick
And you raised your pants
And went on.

I am sitting here
Waiting for you
I have missed you these past years
There you come.

I can see that you are grown now
You made a good looking man.
Come right on in that door.
They got it locked so tight in here
But I see you got the key.

Yeah I like candy
You brought only that one little piece
For all the candy I gave, this is all I get in return.

You throw it down on the floor like it ain't nothing
That is candy you wasting Mister
It hits the bucket of liquid
And the bad smoke comes up.

It smells like gas
And that smell of me I have lived with all these years.
The mist rises and you fade away
And I am left here sitting without any candy.

This chamber is so cold.
I feel like I am slipping away.

So many voices
So many children
Why are they running away from me
Why are...

Oh, no
Not again
Hurts so good
I don't understand.
Rod Stewart.

A dark poem
Set in abuse
In an adult world.
Written after reading: The Man With the Candy, the story of the Houston mass murders by Jack Olsen.
First time friends read this they thought if was real until they found out I had written it from the book mentioned above.  I like to write realism.  For other inspiration I used a Phil Collins song, Misunderstanding.   And the song Infatuation by Rod Stewart.