infinite with shower, first in forever. Off the
phone with an ear infection on my mind.
That one sort of crept up on me.
I mapped it out where I’m the geezer. Lost
track of minutiae, but I always do. And
then you came along. Guffaw.
It was all in a day’s work. The cat’s got a
fuzzy attached to one of her whiskers,
keeps breathing it astir. She’s watching an
airplane fly over a glass of water. I’ve an
imprecise pain in my jaw. Something awry
in a sinus. Or maybe I just went to bed
with a hangover. What a pill.
That’s me on the floor. And brunch? It’s
inevitable and it draws Brahms all the way
from uptight. Slender furniture line the
room which juts like a jaw over the sea.
Perhaps we’re all inbred. I count the
seconds after each stroke of lightning,
each number sounds unfamiliar; I’m a
bumbling, faltering happenstance. Atop
the stairs a yawning dog crumples into
a comfortable position atop a pile of
Polaroids. Jeez, how the minutes
creep. I peck at the water ’til I have to
pee. It’s nine o’clock and I make infinite
shower, a crock at rock, a tease at ease.
