i’m sure
we don’t make it easy for God
or whichever/whatever/whoever you’re of:
when one neighbour asks us to look after their dog,
then the other leaves a note on our car
that we’re in his road-level permitless parking stall
in the middle of a weekday without a soul on the street at all;
when the same partner with whom
you thought you were meant to be –
the one you just talked to about starting a family –
discards wet sample garbage on the shelf at the grocery;
so then,
if i could do it all again
would i want to?
do i really want to know
what could have happened that bad?
negate all i have now for what i could have had?
well since you asked so politely,
i know the things i would change.
to a tee.
life is a lab when you have open multiple tabs –
back-and-forth in a deli sampling various exotic meats,
when it probably costs half your salary, easily
for a real-life meet-and-greet with no physical guarantees.
compassion is the new black.
i’m trying to get back. so i
try again. and
here we were:
food fried so nice and good,
sitting down, us both in the round –
this is nice! we haven’t been together in
what seems like forever
because we’re never in town!
catching up above-ground with Top-40 in the background –
about how far forward you can see,
and on and on about how great it would be,
and this was your second time starting a family
and me, me, me,
me?
please?
Continue reading
ahem:
if i were a cave man,
i wouldn’t be a strong man –
a warrior or a hunter
or hold a leadership position –
but i could at least be remembered
as a proud man.
i would sit by the lake
and smoke herb all-day from my wooden pipe
and think
and play with my dink
instead of fixing the crack in the basin
which is really just a naturally-occurring rock formation
at the base of a waterfall my wife & i
and our tribe call a kitchen sink.
i never said i would be the missing link –
only that i would think.
and touch my dink.
thank you.
//jf 11.2.2022
Photo by Following NYC on Pexels.com
voluptuousness at the grocery store –
of all places, i’m shore –
distracts me from what i even went there for.
i swear i have the list in-hand:
yellow mustard; country gravy; mini SOS pads,
and a friendly face patrolling should i forget such well-laid plans.
i don’t really want to be here but i am:
adulting is hard but proves i am a man!
another impromptu shopping experience in the can,
til i reach the impulse purchases at the exit door.
theory of a daskeman 