Working On It

I drive and I lean to the right always

and it makes me wonder if it is part of the reason for my incessant back pain

 

I take my time responding to any given question

understanding that if someone wants to hear what I have to say, they’ll wait

 

Expensive watches, designer shoes, coveted fragrances, soaps made delicately under a full moon by the hands of

indigenous people of wherever

 

The sight of coupons makes me cringe

 

Chewing gum loudly, at times, I sit back and kick my feet up, if furniture and folk permits

 

Designer coffee has ruined gas station bean juice for me from here until my death

 

I check the closing hours at the local bookstore

maybe I will purchase a book I’ll never read

 

I get home from a long day

ignore the dishes that are crawling out of the sink and groaning my name painfully

 

The hours go by

 

And I sit, here at 2:14 a.m. with my feet atop my ottoman

wearing my back brace and ignoring my extravagant watch for the time and read it from my lap top monitor instead

 

The truth is, I’m a poor boy, one who survived poverty a la Gregor Samsa from the malignant dumps of Matamoros

and will always feel the need to buy one more thing

or two

 

I sing alone and dance to Liszt

throwing Oreos into the air to try to catch them orally

 

ignoring the back pain

avoiding the doctor visit

denying the void inside

 

The record stopped and the needle keeps kicking up dust

 

I used to romanticize the gods above, watching me      taking delight      being entertained     feeling compassion

 

It is I who watches

It is I who delights

I entertain myself

 

Compassion…well, I’m

working

on

it

∞