There is a heavy heat, almost mustydefinitely humid
and I begin to regret exploring the suburban jungle today;
pollen and his friends are attacking me with rocks and I’m getting stoned,
wishing I could pop a few anti-allergens and call it a night, hell,
I’d sleep better anyhow.
The creek is exploring the curves of my home like a cat licking it’s wounds
from a midnight scuffle with a raccoon; or; two young kids trying out kissing
with tongues for the first time.
I wonder how free flowing my mind would be(like on some kind of opiate,
or hallucinogen or anti-allergen)were it not clogged with the muck and murky
haze of my dissatisfied congestion, let alone the blur of watery eyes.
My phone isn’t ringing and I have to admit, I don’t mind today. What would I say?
I’m just out for a stroll.
I went to breakfast but the bastard stood me up.
Just had to cash a check at the bank; not my usual branch though.
I’m home for the week. Well not home just where I was born.
I’m rediscovering myself again.