Leonard sings the lines
coated with cues & compassion
memory switch turns on
how well I do,
I do,
recall
that Lennon poster plastered against his wall
laying back in the ruffled bedding
while staring at it
as his nasal voice spoke over the melody of Chelsea Hotel
he explained that Bowie had won him solid after Five Years
I lay satisfied calculating every word
storing each conversation
even the dust of minor details could never dissolve in importance with time-
was the grand total accounted that night
garments betrayed;
fed to the floor
alarm clock sitting unemployed
and fun
fun
never
lived outside
the oxygen on the other end of the window
schemed entrance
knowing the secret to happiness
was trapped behind the glass
of that
narrow basement
with tiny cheap carpets
one lonely leather couch
a coffee table ambushed with ladders of books
but if you stepped a few past the vintage vent
you’d stand still mesmerized
we were it-
living bodies beaming the crazy disease
that grips us devilishly
though once “cured” or should I say….abandoned?
leaves humans looking for advice and confidence
on forums
in kitchen cabinets
or
the middle-aged bus driver-
and the bus driver’s ******,
he doesn’t want to shrink your ****!
we’re all walking scars
compromising with the cracks in the ceiling
scrapping up ashes of dead ends
in attempts of reconstructing remaining evidence to pave the right direction
to Tomorrow
searching for the master reason
hunting for the map of purpose
in grimy bars
beaten up bathroom stalls
beds with broken springs
and books with words the dictionary doesn’t even know
if only we’d swallow the jagged fact
that conclusions don’t always make sense
not everything folds out into a translated answer
alas, what you’re analyzing  is already what is, period
life isn’t about warrantees and guarantees
sure, some risks have you smiling relieved
and
others naked holding the short straw that once looked so potentially tall
a “mistake” is a character building experience to endure
if absorbed properly could leave one mentally bulletproof
or
drain the average coward coughing up raw regret
worrying only works into wrinkles and backwards steps
accumulating memories generate wisdom after the second party blindness is
dismissed
our scabs are ironically what help us relate
we sit cupping our coffee
spilling guts
connecting cuts
with the individual before us
we gotta feel
to understand
and I had to accept an underlining factor called realism
before I could let these letters soak this pad
it is what it is
is a balanced statement
and it’s about ****** time
we
balance
ourselves
.

© Ronza Jairy.