Monday, June 1, 2009

Today Is Not Friday


in want of a moment’s peace

I walked outside of the bar

and sat down to smoke a cigarette in the sun

the birds were making all their racket up in the trees

an old lady walking by glanced over at me

and made the sign of the cross

I held my head

I smoked my cigarette

I laughed a little

the steep hills were breaking away in the distance

rolling and covered with houses and telephone poles and hospitals and cement

just like everything else

I got up and walked down the street a ways

I kicked at some thick weeds growing out of a crack in the sidewalk

they just bounced back up

I stopped at the corner

I held my breath

a few cars went by

I exhaled

I held out my arms like a scarecrow

or Jesus on the cross

a dog was taking a dump in a treewell a few feet from me

I looked up as high as I could


with a cigarette dangling out of my mouth

I stood there like that

on the street corner

with a sort of smirk on my face

feeling good about things for the first time in a long time

it wasn’t so bad to be alive just then

standing there like that

fooling myself into thinking I didn’t have a care in the world


for once

believing it

the dog finished its business

and its owner pulled the leash and led the mangy beast away

I crossed my legs at the ankles

I didn’t make a sound

the wind blew

and the wind stunk like dog shit

the smoke from my cigarette was burning my eyes

I stood there like that for as long as I could

while people’s phones rang and mailmen walked and clouds scudded

and governments bought car companies and newborns cried

I thought

hell this ain’t so bad

I’ll just stand here like this forever

there’s nothing else to do

then my cigarette went out