Idaho Garage

| Filed under

Contributor: Joseph Friedrichs

- -
For one grueling
strange and lovely summer
I lived in the garage of an upper middle-class
American family.

I paid no rent.

My quarters were sanctioned off by large blue sheets.
We put an old twin mattress on some boxes and crates
and that is where I slept.

I drank hard every day while living in that garage.
Vodka, mostly.
Some gin.

I lived in that garage for approximately 57 days and nights.
Overall, my life was very basic.
All I needed to survive was booze and madness.

I had no woman.
I had no prospects.
I was the King of the Garage.

For supplemental oxygen
each night I left the garage door ajar about 10 inches.
In the stillness of the twilight raccoons entered the garage
scavenging like large greedy mice.
They were not friendly creatures.

One night I chased the raccoons with a huge broom.
Another time the family dog chased the raccoons away.
They always came back the next night.

I wore the same blue shorts every day that summer.
What made the days I have no idea.
There wasn’t much to do in the garage.

In the evenings the temperature cooled down.
Simply surviving another day of 100-degree heat
was enough reason to feel good.

Life was very strange
during my summer as a drunk in a garage.
It was as carefree of time as I can remember.

- - -
Joseph Friedrichs is a freelance journalist and poet who lives in the Western United States. He is the author of three books, including "It's Good to Fish Alone," a book of poetry published in May 2013.


Powered by Blogger.