A Tin Cup's Memoir--Kinda

The life of many an inanimate deserves more than just ending in a junk heap. (Okay, I know it’s silly, but damn, gotta lighten up once in a while or I’ll snap.)

A Tin Cup’s Memoir--Kinda
                       by Odin Roark

That be me
Just hangin’
Swinging side to side
Back of a pack
My buddies
The sleep roll and anorak

That be me
Ancient history
From a great grand dad
To a grandson extraordinaire
Continuin’ this long bumpy ride

Forged in New Hampshire
Turn of the 20th
Makin’ it through one war
Sitting out the next
Bouncin’ through 14 Appalachian peaks
4 American deserts
2 Bankruptcies
1 marriage
(guess who got the cup)
And now
I’m lookin’ forward to
Restin’ my centenarian can
Next to a Boy Scout campfire
Grandson style

Damn
I’m old

Been shot at
Sand washed
Brillow shined
And water nourished

Been cooked with
Drunk with
Souped with
Coffee and bourboned with

Shared leftovers with
Spiders
Scorpions
Bear cubs
And lizards

Been spooned with
Forked
Fingered
And knifed with

Even survived domestic violence
Pitched from 2nd story it was
Soft grass it wasn’t
Concrete banged me a scar
Grandson used as braggin’ rights
Grandpa’s battle scars
He called it

Yet

Almost had to suck it up
Got to the garage sale stage
Goin’ price if I’d been picked
Maybe a nickel
But grandson’s smart
“They don’t make ‘em like this anymore,” says he.
“Not for sale”

Phew!

So…

Got myself a front-row seat
With the Grandson
Watchin’ them bargain hunters
Figurin’
Bickerin’
Negotiatin’

Ya know
Can’t complain
Not bad
Bein’ on in years
Knowin’ you’re still good for a few more
Long as grandson keeps hikin’
Gets a girl friend
Gets married
Creates another generation of bangin’ ‘round

Might do me in?

Naw

Don’t make ‘em like me anymore
Right?