Sunless soaked day finds me at home
(where I belong) one day early
prisoner released for good behavior
remanded to the custody of my two dogs
whose unkempt curly faces shower me
with love I may not deserve. But wait,
hold on there, I take that back. No matter
what or who, we all deserve the particular
love of dogs.
Though the bed is lovely I tossed and turned
amongst the pristine covers the poufy pillows
no dogs inhibiting my movements on the vast
landscape of this bed just and only for me
captain of my lone ship in this home away
from home. Yes, I slept badly, woke so often
hoping desperately I’d drift off on the gentle
rocking waves of sleep and so I did.
Again and again and again.
I came with foreboding thinking ahead
the next adventure seeming more important
the last so very bad wanting only to make
my way a little bit profitably, to choose correctly,
to avoid making yet another mistake in this
fool’s errand I’ve chosen for a way of life.
Eleventh day of the tenth month of the 2012th year–10-11-12.
Clearly a day of order, of one thing following another,
first things first, second things second and so on.
Logical sequence, step by step, one foot in front
of the other–10-11-12. Ta ta ta ta, four four time,
four beats to a measure, quarter note gets one beat
beat by beat by beat by beat. Common Time.
All’s well that ends well, all in good time,
a timely entrance, an untimely end
(because 7-8-9).
My mother would be ninety-eight today
if she’d struggled through these nearly three
more years. I do not wish that on her, no.
She lived far too long as it was, longer
than she bargained for, though not as long
as our Great Aunt Irene, who was 104
when she died. Or was it 105?
I’ve allowed myself a few seconds
to imagine what that might be like.
Forty more years beyond these sixty?
The thought of it exhausts me even now.
No, my mother set her goal plenty high.
Twenty more years will give me all the time
I want, all I’ll ever need and I imagine my
mother would approve.
Poems float above my head just out of reach
and though I can touch some pretty words
(peppered besotted bauble dangle)
they fly away before I manage
to pull them together, wanting
I can only guess, to stay free.
And no amount of coaxing will bring
them together, not today, not by me.
Windows shuttered against the cold one hears
so little at least at this late morning hour
when the birds have finished their early morning
chorus and all others have gone about their
quotidian business of work and school, etc.,
while I sit up amongst the walnut leaves
reluctant to go and do, knowing that
going and doing will be rewarding,
knowing that every piece of this chilly
bright autumn day could be terribly rewarding
oh so knowing it and feeling it and already
convinced beyond one little straw of that
and so, go and do I shall.
Sun pours through the window of this pricey hotel
burning frost off the glass, making a cheerful promise
that today will be less brutal than the two before:
artists huddling miserably layered in clothing and
blankets in open tents, hoping someone might brave
the cold to buy something nice for their home knowing
the odds of this happening are very slim indeed.
We dream of bathtubs and beds, waiting, hapless.
The cold the cold creeping into bones
(no matter the layers of clothing and
subcutaneous fat of which we rant)
as we sit or stand for hours on end
in this one place, a long sunless day
into evening no end in sight wondering
why on earth in God’s name in hell
we ever thought this might be a pleasant
way to earn our keep. The minutes creep by
along with all thoughts of remuneration
replaced by the simple desires for hot tea,
a warm bed, a scalding tub in which to soak.
Oh to dance! One feels that all of life’s little defeats
might be packed off to boarding school to do their
mischief far far away if only there were dancing
wild and true from the very core of one’s being
heads thrown back hatted or bare in wild abandon
dancing of the variety that invites all to close their
weary eyes throw off the heavy coat of inhibition
and under the night sky draw down the lights of stars.