it’s dark
it’s early
too early

the sun isn’t up yet
I am Wakened Victim
to Noisy Neighbor

Elderdrunk who moved here
to get away from Ghosts
Of His Past

the ceiling moans
as he dances to songs
he doesn’t know the words to

sings along anyway
I fall from my bed
feet landing in slow motion

Bleary Eyes trusting it’s there
hands Fumbling For Light
on the nightstand

Fearful of the harshness of it
I turn my head
squint before pulling the trigger

Pants On
one leg at a time
They say we all do it that way

They are Smartass
they seem to know Everything
maybe they can explain

why I crave a cigarette
(something I have vowed
a thousand times to give up)

so badly
I’m Willing to walk
six blocks in the dark

in a town where random
gunfire Is The Norm
just to buy some

the last time I saw
the Man At The Counter
was a year ago

he was healthy and
happy and optimistic and
Going Nowhere

now he has ALS
is admittedly Less Happy
wishes he had gone Somewhere

it’s hard to be happy
when you can’t breathe
(I think to my Self

opening the carefully wrapped
cellophane and foil a vicious prank
disguised as a prize)

I light one
start the shuffle
back to my room

Homelessman gently accosts me
he is polite in his demands
just a cigarette

I give him two
wish him Luck
then continue

my pace was quicker
when I was Young
I was Young last year

younger anyway
ready to take on the world
to express my desires

to manifest my future
to ride out the long
story of my life

a neverending rollercoaster
a thrill a minute
not now not this minute

this minute I want
to sit On The Porch
and think about it

Maybe Tomorrow

Image by Jon Tyson.

Published by J M Greff

J M Greff is the rambling author, trucker philosopher, peace loving hippie, spiritual warrior, backpacking pantheist, wandering minstrel, and poet fool who created A Caravan of One for you. View all posts by J M Greff