Tuesday, July 7, 2015
I have not yet written today;
a trip to the dentist, then the drug store,
followed by the supermarket, the card store,
finally back to the drug store.
Now it’s getting late,
almost time for another painkiller.
Maybe I’ll wash it down with some Scotch.
Can’t stand the cheap stuff.
Love the good stuff, one shot, maybe two.
Painkillers in different forms, pills and liquid.
Then maybe I can get something written.
I put on the TV
and look for some inspiration.
I see cops busting bad-guys,
Hawaiian cops and robbers.
I hit Channel-up and some old man is choking to death
on his own phlegm.
Quickly I press Channel-up, again, and again.
Trying to Channel-up far enough—fast enough
to get away from my 30 years of smoking.
I Channel-up so far that I find myself Channel-down…
Channel-down and back in time.
I see Little Joe and Pa and Hoss;
an entire cast of dead people from long ago.
I thank God I’m alive
and I start to write.