Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
I've been getting up to watch the local traffic patterns. I have a big plan to improve the traffic around town. It's appalling people have trouble getting around i swear. I'm going to turn this plan over to the highway department at the end of the month. it will revolutionize things. Its all just slow moving traffic creeping through town. Turn left turn right or go straight. Lots of cars. when my father lived here Main Street was one way and there were still trolleys that went up the street that took you to church on sunday morning. You still get the feeling that all the streets meet at the same place but too many people are going there and no one is going to church. The point is most days come and go with no more significance than the morning coffee or pieces of paper blowing in the breeze getting caught in storm drains soaking with ***** water and falling to pieces. On this day however or night I should say something changed in me. It was a grey saturday in early spring and I was drowsy at the park on a lone bench after having read the local paper. It was election season so it was all about the candidates. Johnson supports this while Crenshaw starkly opposes the same measure. It was boring to say the least. I had fallen asleep and woken up about 4 o clock and found my paper to be missing. Some passer by had probably picked it up thinking i was through with it. And I suppose i was through with it. I did find a bit of humor in it remembering how i had drawn over several of the politicians faces. A mustache on him devil horns on her. It was something to pass the time i guess. I decided i had nothing better to do so i closed my eyes and fell back asleep. Only waking after the sun had disappeared from the horizon and the moon graced the sky with her presence. I suppose I will walk home now i said to myself.   Standing in the pale moon light with her beams comin down to the left and an airplane flying on my right. For a moment i imagined them smashing together in a cloud of moon dust and jet fuel throwing off tides and sending the earth careening off into space but i knew they wouldn't. I see a bench in the distance and i make my way over as i found i was not quite ready to find my way home after all. A lonely newspaper holds the seat for me and i briefly pick it up checking to see if it was mine from earlier. too much of a coincidence i suppose but still i checked. I set it aside and place my hands over my face and breathe hot air to warm myself up. The ticking of my watch seems to keep a rhythm with the passing cars and gently falling rain that wets the tops of my shoes and it all slowly blurs into a whirling blue and when i open my eyes im at the foot of your bed and i find myself saying "When i lay down to sleep beneath the tree i dream of blue water because my river speaks to me she comes and goes she ebbs and flows like the winter spring summer and fall i am a sinner but i sing to pierce the fog do you hear my call? do you hear my voice carry through this cave filled with rags and ***** cards? Do you ever come out here at night to see the stars?" Who am i talking too? "In the early morning before the sun when the snow falls with just the right weight to cap the dark stone along your wall and pile up like lazy cats on a fence. I think of you." Ive never owned a cat i dont know if im afraid of them. snakes and cats are demons to be worshipped revered and feared. Again i find myself saying "I would try to escape the dull light but Her has big eyes and dark hair. her is in love with an island and a feeling. Mine is still afraid of an island but it still occupies mines thoughts" how strange a feeling but its warm here so i stay for awhile longer. "And the look in your eyes when you speak of your wife in germany can make tired dry men cry violent blue tears." Upset by what i had said in my dream i will myself out of it and find myself on the bench with the newspaper beside me. It is the day after valentines day.  Thoughts return to yesterday and a feeling of deja vous comes over me. Had i been here yesterday? No I spent valentines day in the city with the bike rental guys and pepsi not really knowing what it meant to me. One bike rental guy i spoke with at length had a sad reply to a comment i made about how much i enjoyed his conversation and i said truly you are a good man. He said "truthfully, all my talent and tact i make up for it with what i lack. Im jealous and competitive but id rather step aside than talk about my pride and ill hide behind my wine." A sad and haunting verse as it rings in my head tonight on this bench with the old newspaper. I get up to finish my walk home.
CC Capie
Written by
CC Capie
752
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems