June 5, 2008

Midnight Words





Right field seating from the park, 2005.



Me: Reworked that essay again after the class and worked on the poem for Old Grey Thursdays Poet’s Group, which isn’t. Got June tickets to four games with G. Heavy hamburger and fries out last night. Lite dinner home tonight: Cheese omelets, roasted asparagus, fruit salad.

G: Had a ball at work with more new programs. I didn’t kill him after my CC rate went skyrocketing when their payment didn’t arrive there on time tho he said it was mailed on time twice. Pink slip arrived for Toyota. It’s really pink and needs to be banked.

Baseball: Going to the game Friday as a fan. Emailing old boss Cee daily just to chat. I miss her. Hugged all sorts of friends at VIP gate and talked with ticket sellers when I picked up my tickets. G let the info out that they were going to move someone to make room for me to a gossipy employee, and now I’m uncomfortable with this tho he isn’t.
Working on and off for a week on my “Thinking” poem. At times it becomes too crude, other times too bland. It needs punch without brutality. No soft mush here, but it still can’t be a trailer trash sort of piece to have any meaning.

As frosting on the cake, I get to see if I can operate the new scanner/copier/printer without having something disastrous happen. Free printers are good. Free printers that I can run are even better.




I woke at three thinking again,
letting that committee
in my head push words
on through my brain, the sequences of
what I should say, not say,
doors open, doors closed
a diplomatic reality
crushing in on me, keeping me
trolling for silence
instead of screaming a repeating
cycle of unprintable garbage
into the darkened hours.

I do need to practice my words:
thank you words
not working
at your job any more words. Any more,
no more, not there,
please take your job
and shove it,
Amen words.

No serenity or sanity there
those sorts of words rattling on
those very words that woke me at three
left me warm at four
find me cold again at nine
churning
until I make that call
that wards me from my past.

No comments:

Post a Comment

postcards

Celebration of Life