On The Porch
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.
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