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The Substitute

There is
the nec-
essary
stuff that
must be
accomp-
lished,
of course,
such as 

bathing or
sweeping
up when
the floor
is dirty,
tidying
the bed,
washing
clothes,
getting
a few
grocer-
ies, pay-
ing the
bills, cert-
ifying for
unemploy-

ment once
every couple of
weeks, to ensure
the check comes in
when it’s supposed
to, looking for 

employment:

sending out

resumes,

etc.

Then, there’s the
busybody stuff,
like sweeping
a second time
around, getting
down on hands
and knees to
scrub the
already
peculiarly
iridescent
floor, walking
to the corner
store for a 2nd
or 3rd or 4th time
for refreshments
when you’ve al-
ready got plenty
enough, spending
an entire day just
rearranging things,
everything’s about
as tidy as it’s ever
been, of course.

And there’s things
that I do for no

other reason, really,

than to while away
time, things that,

upon doing them,

give little or no
trace of a gain,

something

good that

can be 

palpably

had just for 

the doing of it. 

In this category 

are long naps,

and the
hour upon
hour (upon hour)

that I will spend 

playing my 

favorite 

cellphone
games.

Also, to what additional
use might a cellphone
be put without getting
at what’s real, what’s
needed, what’s craved
and yet seemingly all but
impossible to achieve under 

such situations as we find
ourselves in these odd
and endless days?
Why, Facebook,
Twitter and
Instagram
seem to
come in
just fine

on mine;
they’re
just the
thing for
feeling more
social than not.
And I don’t know
what all you might 

do with yours, but with
my phone, I can watch
late night television, as
well as early morning, early
evening, prime time and middle
of the night television, which
does seem right smart of it,
until I begin to think of what
it is that I’m really missing.

At the end of the day, I’ve
not had even one visitor,
and the same can be
said for every single
day within the last
year and a half
(Good grief, it’ll
soon’ve been two!).
And, I’ll venture to say
that I haven’t had an
appointment in my
calendar wherein I

have ventured out

to become a visitor

with anyone on the

outside, aside from 

therapist or physician, 

in nearly that duration.

And what is there
to do about that,
you might ask?
Well, in truth,
I’ve no idea
what you
might be
thinking, much

less what you may

be asking.  As
for me, I’ve
had enough of
having nobody
but myself with

which to while 

away the time. So,

what the heck,

it’s not as if

I’ve not already

become quite a

pest about it. . . .

All this I think
as I lie here
sleep-adjacent.

So, who’s up for
tea tomorrow,
you might wonder

. . .as I do. . .

. . .right now. . . 

whether I am. . . 

asking aloud . . .

or just. . .wish-

fully. . .dreaming. . 

. . . . . . . . . . . . .