Tuesday, April 4, 2017

9353. THE POTLACH BEARS

THE POTLACH BEARS
No awakening. Not that at all.
We go to bed by night, still reading
books. The thin light stays on while
I sleep on the floor with no snooze
or alarm. How does that work again?
-
Drumming my fingers on the same 
old table has done nothing now except
leave marks. A cave-painting of sorts
on beat, old wood. Why that's me!
I just described transference!
-
A long time ago, yeah, I had an
apartment in the frosty, old city. There
was nothing at all in this dump. Any
food brought in was shared with the 
rats and cockroaches. 'My roommates,'
I used to say, except they paid no rent.
What a bargain for something.
-
Hey, if you ever want to see a bad scene,
step with me back into time. I can open
a dead refrigerator door and show you
the turkey carcass that was covered in
slime and cockroaches too. Someone just
left it there, and I didn't know what to do.
-
Boy, that was a deep night memory. 
Whew! And I was pretty stupid too.

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