Monday, September 24, 2012


The Burkowski book laying on the floor
lent credence to his waking state.
Other things came, slowly, into focus.
His Kindle Fire tablet (or was it slate?).
The curious faded green shade
blocking the sun
from the old wooden door.
Sitting up, again slowly,
he could only remember one
That last kiss.

Then he heard the trickling noise of a fountain.
Someone else was here?  Was up?
Were there other people in this place?
The sound of a spoon scraping
'round and 'round in a coffee cup
confirmed it.
A gentle cough said yes, he was not alone.
His eyes fully open now, he saw lights
on his VCR.
He wondered what he had been taping.
Or perhaps watching.
Suddenly, the loud annoying ringing of a phone
brought his brain to relative attentiveness.
An attentive tranquility.

By not answering, was this still another
thing he was botching?
Yes, his life was one long string
of errors.
He was a real goof-up.
He could remember at least that.
Oh, and the kiss.
The soft kiss.
He felt the quiet brush of a purring cat.
Reaching down to pet it, he winced in pain.
An awkward position in which he had lain
made waking an even greater chore
than on that dreary day before.

He heard it now, the morning rain.
The trickling fountain?
No, there was also rain.
He had to see this,
it had been so long.
Since he had sat on the side of Storm Mountain,
too tired to ascend one more step.
But, he could at least stand up now.
Surely, after sleeping, he had that much pep!
So, he did it.  He stood.
The empty bottle fell from his lap.
He knocked over the full ash tray.
American Spirits.
He was no cheap-ass!
And then...
he saw her!
And his world turned 'round,
light bursting through that damned curtain.

He had done at least one thing right after all.

mindbringer, 23 September 2012