Cocktail Potties was written about being dragged all over the place to different cocktail parties and social functions. Partly as an executive, but mostly having to deal with my wife’s real estate social functions. Not cool with Asperger’s, receptive/expressive communication disorder, and everything else that is going on.
Hollow eyes and frozen faces,
Cauterize in public places.
Authorized – I hold the aces.
Posh pit, mosh pit, society bullshit
Crying, trying, dying to fit in,
Smirk, laugh or grin.
For me there is no win.
What the hell, I can never tell,
But the faceless crowds scream so loud.
They drown me with a look,
Noted it in their little black book.
Diamonds, trinkets and fancy houses.
Discussed ad nauseam by bitches in blouses.
Pretentious lemmings in ridiculous trousers.
All plastic here – if I only had a Mauser.
Autism, racism, nationalization.
Net zero difference in my calculation.
You view me. You judge me, in tabulation.
I’m blistered and tight like radio ablation.
Faceless names – nameless faces.
They’re all the same in public places.
I bare the stares that glare, rip and tare.
Pulling out my hair, this time I swear.
I think those over there. They really don’t care.
It happens again, the Burger’s kicks in, I’ll never win.
Like a thousand times before – The Cocktail Potty ends.
John Truitt was diagnosed on the autism spectrum two years ago at age 45. After his diagnosis he started painting in acrylics (“completely out of the blue – I had never painted before). All of my paintings are created while i am listening to music and stimming.”
See more of his art on instagram.
Header Art: John Truitt “Cocktail Potties”