Saturday, November 7, 2015

Bag and Queue

October 6-15
Reaching all the way to the bottom of the paper bag, all the way down to the unpopped kernels, the top serrated bag edge is snaring and tugging the middle of my arm.
Eyes fixed to the big movie screen while thunderous sound  and furious  advertising images chase each other and compete for our attention.  A hypnotic state. I don’t pay attention consciously. What is my unconscious picking up. Eventually I wake up to wonder restlessly, where is the main feature? Is all this to encourage us to finish the bag of popcorn before the feature and go get another? Fingers jonessing for any morsal of remaining popped corn; just because.
I wake up even more to remember I’m with a beautiful woman who enjoys my company. I find her hand in the half dark. I half turn to her and I see her smile. A warm blanket of cellular pleasure.

October 7-15
The queue in the bank is tight and slow as a snake in January. I can feel the rough wool coat behind me. Well, I think it’s wool, it certainly is tangible. That customer is really in my space.  Don’t dare turn around. Don’t know what I will find. I’m itching inside, as if the wool coat is getting to me. “Come on, turn around to see what’s up” I tell myself, “what’s the worse that could happen?” Turning slowly, like a bolt in a thread, around with an open mind. 

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Velvet Blessing

October 5-15

Feeling snug (smug?).
Single seat by the window,
On the streetcar.
I wonder,
How folk,
Who might be larger,
Would feel in this seat?
Head one way and my torso another,
Sun smashes my eyes,
Soft fist with universal power,
Stinging tears.
Hit me by surprise.
Eye lids wet and clamped shut,
“Have this; hope it helps”,
A velvet voice offered a blessing,
Blind hand reaching up, 
Velvet paper tissue.
Glued shut eyes turning up,
“Thank you “,
Welcome cloth, wipes gently,
Soaking up the waters of plenty,
Then a nose blow.
I could see, now.
Looking in the voice’s direction;
Stare for a nano-second;
Standing next to my seat,
Long, straight, dark hair,
Wonderfully high cheeks,
Big friendly mouth,
“Thank you so much, again”
This time I could take in the natural beauty,
And count

My blessings.

Sneaker & Glove

October 13-15


There was the tiniest shriek. A cheap sneaker on old hardwood floors. Well, the old hardwood floor is certain, the value of the sneakers is not. 

Balancing on the ball of his feet, walking in slow motion might work on the moon. Not with the gravity of this situation.  Not in this neighbourhood of  eldery stately houses, learning into each other for comfort. That’s what it looks like when looking up from the sidewalk.

What time is it anyway? Late night, early morning? Depends, I guess. Maybe it doesn’t matter, at this point. 

Out with the boys or a clandestine woman? The excitement of the night deludes him into thinking he can walk on the moon. 

He forgets he has elbows. OOOPS. Caught that before it hit the floor. The buzz in his head is so loud he’s afraid it will wake his wife. 

What was he thinking, he thinks to himself. Too late now. And this has been a long time coming, not a new sensation. Suddenly a light goes on and it’s not his enlightenment. 

The overhead blinds him with the contrast. Off balance his arms reach for the floor as his moon walk crashes.

October 14-15


The roar, the roar, what a thunderous roar!
Ten thousand or more or 
Whatever fills the stadium,
Is going wild! 
What a baseball crowd for the home team. 
Third base is occupied, 
So are first and second. 
A four shot revolver 
Waiting for the next hitter
To slam the hammer down. 
CRACK- the shot – 
The hammer connects.
Ball sailing high to left field, 
Still in play. 
Outfielder is a pro.
He’s prepared. 
Eye laser locked on the ball,
Running backwards so skillfully and fast,
Back of his hair is pushed up. 
Tiny white comet  - incoming.
Arms and glove in place,
 “The Force is with him”. 
Glove is yelling “come me, Baby!!!”.  
Third is home, 
Pushing the score to the black. 
The outfielder has a job,
Catch a throw. 
He does,
On instinct built on skill. 
The little white dot makes it home.
After second base cleared. 
These guys are fast.