This morning I’m woozy but artsy. Make
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 lines 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.
