SelectionIll
Bluelighter
about 6 years ago
sitting at a booth
in a diner
near my house
i held my hands out in front of me on the table
palms up
and wondered
on this big earth that pulls at my pant legs.
i wondered at cigarette smoke and the smell of coffee
how it had become appealing to me.
i waited in that booth for two hours.
waiting for my friends to float in on pockets of warm air
billowing their coats back behind them.
i needed my friends to be james bond that night.
instead i stared at a beautiful little girl sitting in a banana yellow high chair, and she would twist around to smile and share her perfect soul with me.
i imagined there, that she was my oldest and truest mother, from my first steps on this heavenly blue ball, and here she had come again to make sure i didn't pluck myself out of our electricity and into the cold cold ground.
i kept smoking cigarettes and watching through the window dark rain pedal toward us.
as the first drops tapped against the windows,
i wanted to be home in warm bed and said so to my mother of many times and she said to me
"go apricot, go ripen on your vine and fall and follow the trail we made."
"where does it lead, mom"
"why, here, my sweet sweet boy."
to be continued...
sitting at a booth
in a diner
near my house
i held my hands out in front of me on the table
palms up
and wondered
on this big earth that pulls at my pant legs.
i wondered at cigarette smoke and the smell of coffee
how it had become appealing to me.
i waited in that booth for two hours.
waiting for my friends to float in on pockets of warm air
billowing their coats back behind them.
i needed my friends to be james bond that night.
instead i stared at a beautiful little girl sitting in a banana yellow high chair, and she would twist around to smile and share her perfect soul with me.
i imagined there, that she was my oldest and truest mother, from my first steps on this heavenly blue ball, and here she had come again to make sure i didn't pluck myself out of our electricity and into the cold cold ground.
i kept smoking cigarettes and watching through the window dark rain pedal toward us.
as the first drops tapped against the windows,
i wanted to be home in warm bed and said so to my mother of many times and she said to me
"go apricot, go ripen on your vine and fall and follow the trail we made."
"where does it lead, mom"
"why, here, my sweet sweet boy."
to be continued...
