Is it balcony or baloney?
I put my glasses on. It’s
balcony. That’s no fun.
I’ve not one of those.
Neither do I have any
baloney, though. Let’s
begin again, as if night
goes on forever. My
legs crossed in front of
the laptop, the right up
per portion of my should
er, where it connects with
my neck, pained almost to
spasm, but not quite. I rub
the aspirin cream over it, as
that sometimes helps. It’s
the salve that I have. What
else? Oh, it’s night. Another
hour to midnight. I’ll be up
a while, having slept most
of a 3-day weekend. Missed
a doctor’s appointment, think
ing it was only Monday when
it was Tuesday (and I had
truly thought the appointment
was Thursday). I have to deal
with that in the morning. Along
with several additional disturbances.
I’m here, though. Should that be
the end of all of my worries? That
I exist? That I’m still here? I so
wish. But it’s like I’m looking at
a penny bank, let’s say, as the
copper pennies drop from it into
a well, and there isn’t a thing that
can be done about it. That seems
a fitting enough description. It’s
maddening. To me. And who else
would it madden? There’s no one.
And so I watch the pennies fall, one
by one, trying as each one falls to be
come a little bit okay with each loss.
