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I am Thinking Of The Times That That I Was A Poor Paperboy In Venice California

I am Thinking Of The Times That I Was A Poor Paperboy In Venice California.

I am thinking of the times that I was a poor paperboy in Venice California.
It was my foray into the business world;
when I could learn and save money too.
The Evening Outlook was the name of the newspaper 
And it was a time never to forgoton.
I tried hard not to not get bitten by someone pet
since there was always a mean dog behind the fence.
After school we would go to a certain corner, where the 
bundles of newspapers were thrown to the curb. 
With my older brother, we were the paperboys of the neighborhood 
With responsibilities now a days people called them the hood.
We folded them right there on the ground, 
through icy wind, and rain, the paper had to be delivered all the same.
If you never received a complaint for six months 
you would get honored with orange bags to carry the papers on,
I never got them since I was never that lucky 
on many occasions I almost got fired. 
No-one cared that the work made me very tired
I was not what the paper company desired.
I learned every trick in the book on how to throw your papers,
Some even jumped and walked up the step to my customers
Now that was skill;
But come night there was always a call,  
that's my paper never arrived at all
So I had to go back looking for it,
most of the time it was in the bushes;
customers to lazy to look for it themselves
so they had to go and give me a bad name.
In the summer it was pretty hot
Yes, those were the times I sweated a lot.
One day one of the paper boys got smart with my older brother,
and Ben threw a punch to his face.
The paper boy got so furious that he tackled my brother and was punching him out,
and then I heard a call from my brother,
he was calling out to me for help and he got it, 
I either used a piece of wood or my bare fist, but that guy he got it in the back of his head;
and that was the end of that.
Listen closely in this world so rough you have to squeeze yourself into it, 
not to shy away from it, 
This is the difference between the weak and the strong 
The meek and the brave
The abusers and the abused
You just can't let life or people push you around;
Perhaps Buddha has said to take the road of least resistance;
be peaceful, hold you temper
but it was not our way, we were not Buddhist.
My brother, he saved one thousand dollars; me zero.
One day my pretty rough father, he threw that in my face, he said "when I started my business, Ben your brother gave me his money and that is what we ate from"
What a prick he was,
Him and his guilt trips, remember what I said about the abusers well, sometimes they in your own family,
Hey Evening Outlook,  What is in the news today?!

By Marc Acrich

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 4/25/2018 7:21:00 PM
Marc, you must have so many experiences and a memory that holds them so close that you can describe them in detail. Really like your style my friend.
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Marc Acrich
Date: 4/25/2018 9:13:00 PM
Thanks, hope you read my civil war one its good, I hope don't know if it's poetry or story telling not sure as ALL I JUST KNOW IT THE ONLY THING I KNOW HOW TO DO .SOME LADY HAD TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT HAIKU WAS QUATRAIN WHAT THE F IS THAT , SONNET -CACA  https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/the_civil_american_war_had_arrived_at_our_feet_1006141