Poetry
When You Dare Not Speak the Truth
A response to a “Never Ending Poem” prompt
Jed gripped the handlebars tighter and stared into the expanse A lesser man than he, surely would soil their pants
He glanced down the hill, noticing the slope in its extreme There was no getting out of this now, so it would seem
He pondered his fate and how he got into this mess It was because of a secret that he would never confess
It was that night in Sedona, in Leroy’s girlfriend’s hotel room Little did he know then that one impulsive act would eventually seal his doom
This was all Leroy’s fault, really, he muttered under his breath If it wasn’t for Leroy, he might not be facing sure dismemberment, or possibly death
It was Leroy’s idea to go on this stupid camping trip, and he picked the place At the top of a grassy steep hill, Leroy said, they could better see the stars as they twinkle in space
It was Leroy who had brought along this cart contraption, molded of plastic and steel Pretty much a wagon with handlebars, and, in front, one single wheel
It’s not like anyone would actually ride it down the hill, Leroy had said when they’d arrived Unless, of course, things got crazy and a dare was contrived
And, who else but Leroy could have had such inspiration as they sat in their camp chair? “I know what we should do. Let’s play truth or dare!”
So, round the circle they went challenging each other, laughing, with nothing to hide All except Jed with his secret, the telling of which he could never abide
So, when it came to Jed’s turn, he took a long drink of his brew Jed knew he had to accept a dare, saying “truth” would not do
So here sits Jed, on a cart primarily held together with bailing wire and twine With a crowd of eager friends egging him on at the top of a great incline
At least he has a helmet; albeit a haphazard affair Made from pieces of Styrofoam cooler and duct tape, much of which was now stuck to his hair
With a firm push from Leroy, Jed began his wild ride With a cigarette in his mouth and a newly-opened Schlitz bouncing in the cupholder at his side
Only one other soul knew of Jed’s dirty secret, and she would never tell And now, Jed wouldn’t either; they could all kiss his ass in see him in hell
For now it would seem that only the coroner would be the one person that would take a peek At Jed’s unmentionable secret; the tattoo of a pink unicorn on his right butt cheek
For it wasn’t amour that occurred on that fateful Sedona night in the hotel room But rather Leroy’s girlfriend’s first-ever try at tattooing, that secured Jed’s doom
One night of boredom, too many Schlitz’s, and Leroy passed out on one bed She pulled the tattoo gun out of her purse, along with some ink; white and red
The rest now is history, as they often say And, Jed had no choice on this fateful day
Truth simply wasn’t an option, Jed could not reveal his shame So “dare” it was, and really, who could Jed blame?
This is in response to James G Brennan’s prompt of Truth or Dare for the “Never-ending Poem” that is making the rounds. I answered one about lemons earlier, and this one was also a lot of fun!
As is the tradition, I am going to tag some people and prompt them as well. I am selecting from some of my recent followers: Elle C., Macey Malone, Zeeshan Khan, S.M., Tca Venkatesan, PhD, and Annie Huang.
Your prompt: Pool time.
If you like this, you might like some of my other recent writing, including my July daily roundup of writing challenges:
And a recent poetic response to a prior challenge:
And another more spontaneous poem:
Timothy Key spent over 26 years in the fire service as a firefighter/paramedic and various fire chief management roles. He firmly believes that bad managers destroy more than companies, and good managers create a passion that is contagious. Compassion, grace and gratitude drive the world; or at least they should. Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter, and join the mail list.
