Shaggy Tribute to Norm*

At the latter part of workday.
Sun lowering.
A mosquito finds his way
Into the office of a Foot Doctor:
Hi Doctor, how’s things?
Mind if I stretch out
On your sofa. Oh, watch the wings.
Aahhh that’s better.
Doc I think I am in a terrible slump.
Wife bitches all the time
Sareptha Alissandrovich
Thinks I should be extending myself
For more pay, more prestige.
She spends all her time
In a swarm of girlfriends.
Who speak ill of me.
Our Son gives me sideward looks
As he exits for college. Tisk. Tisk.
The one new neighbour thinks
He has an issue with me
About a property line. Stupid bastard.
Survey papers thrown around.
And my poor second daughter
Marissa Alissandrovich
Can hardly walk.
Taken down by that cold spell
Of last winter.
As were so many of us.
I look in the mirror
And see nothing I admire.
Like some disgusting
Spider hanging by a thread
Over the flame of
God’s wrath.
Tentatively held back.
That gun in my drawer
Makes a sickening offer.
Much too dramatic.
Are you getting this down Doc.
The mosquito asks.
It all seems so tedious, so meaningless.
Like a crushed pillow at
The bottom of a fall from a Cliff.
Or the Hoover Dam.
Ever feel like that?
Life, Purpose, Legacy. Adversity.
(Goes on for ten minutes more.
The mosquito does.)
And finally dinner hour calls.
The Doctor interrupts.
Why did you come to my door?
I work with feet.
You should be seeing a Shrink.
So many, many anxieties, Mosquito.

Yeah, but your porch light was on…


* Norm McDonald told story to Conan O’brien. Oops it was a moth and not a mosquito…

https://youtu.be/jJN9mBRX3uo