02/13/11

sleeping, then eyes wink on. it’s dark. hot under the covers but cold outside. covered up to my ears.

throw covers off with my arm, like a vampire in reverse. pour out of the bed, eyes blind with sleep. i can see the green glow from the smoke detector. i close my eyes, as if it matters, and feel for the doorjamb with my fingers.

carpet one step, the slick wood with the next. i have big feet and lumber in basketball shorts and find the refrigerator door handle blind like any American can. take a bottle.

out the window someone walks their dog in the snow, i’m interlaced about the chest and face in black on grey, watching. across the way a crowd stand on a deck blinking cigarettes and silhouettes. as if there won’t be any tomorrow. or maybe tomorrow is just today again.

i drink the rest of the bottle. barefoot skate back across the floor, unseen to me. start the sleeping process again.

they are right. monday is just going to be another monday. i can’t remember any past mondays and this one will fall into obscurity itself.

how can we not waste our lives? of what consequence is a life defined by substances and sex and reproduction and major purchases? but this is what the whole world gives its lives for. building sandcastles at low tide. it’s so vapid.

the irony is that we can do no other but to lie down and live it again tomorrow. spring comes again promising to remind us of resurrection (indeed, brother martin), hopefully resurrection of our hearts as well.