Month: February 2015

Expecting So Little, Seeing So Much

We never saw so much

We never expected so little

They lit up the night

And the show was worth what we paid

We sat back and took it in

No one said a thing

There was nothing left to be said

So we all just watched

In amazement

In anticipation

Out of respect and awe

And then it was over

As quickly as it began

No grand finale

No one  to thank us for coming

And as we walked away

The simple thought slipped in

That this very evening

Was never really

For us at all

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

Thank Days, Great Stuff

She shuffled around in the kitchen

I was stuck on the couch

Wondering what she could be doing

She had just arrived

Came through the door like a hurricane

Speaking about the traffic

The snowbirds

The lines

All the time her simple drive took

I can hear her moving chairs

I can hear her opening and closing cupboards

I try to imagine what she’s doing

She whips back into the room

She puts two glasses on the table

And pulls a bottle of rum from a paper bag

She pulls off the top

And fills both glasses to the top

No room for soda

No room for ice

It’s going to be one of those evenings

Thank days, great stuff

She takes a strong pull and jumps off the couch

In a mere second she’s gone

She’s back in the kitchen, rummaging again

What more could she possibly need?

After a minute

The kitchen falls quiet

Just the noise from a piano and trumpet on my radio

Then I hear talking

A low mumbling which I can’t make out

If she’s talking to me she’ll have to come back in here

But she does not

She’s on my phone

No idea who she’s talking to

I guess it makes no difference

I notice her half empty glass of rum

I pick up my glass and use it to refill hers

She can drink it lukewarm

I want mine with ice

So I grab both glasses

And make my way to the kitchen

She’s seated at the table

With her head in one hand

And the phone in the other

I place her now full glass in front of her

She says nothing

She seems to be listening intently

I put ice in my glass

And head back to the couch

I think again, about who she might be talking to

But the thought passes quickly

I reach over

And turn up the volume

Coltrane is on, now

And I enjoy his company

More than she enjoys mine

© D J Loweman 2015

Kit Kat

A man sat down next to me on the park bench

He held a leash, which in turn, held a mangy dog

“Nice day, eh?”, he said

He didn’t turn to me

He just stared through dark glasses

Looking straight ahead

I wasn’t here for company

But I was in a good mood

And had no reason to be mean

I looked down at the dog

The dog too, just stared straight ahead

“What’s your dog’s name?”

The question seemed to snap him back

He was in another place

He moved his head around a little

And finally answered

“Kit Kat.  The dog’s name is Kit Kat”

I glanced down again at the dog

He didn’t even flinch when the old man said his name

Just kept staring into the breeze

Kit Kat was small, grey and wiry

Kit Kat looked old

Kit Kat was about five pounds of ugly dog

“Why Kit Kat?”

The old man took a deep breath

Exhaled of exhaustion, then said

“My wife wanted a cat.  I wanted a dog.  She would use this squeaky, annoying voice, every time she talked about her little ‘kitty cat’.  So I went out and bought this guy first.  I told her he would just terrorize a cat, so she finally gave up.  I won.”

I could see him crack a slight smile at this

Finally, he added, “My wife is a bitch, so just to rub it in, I named him Kit Kat.  She hates this dog.”

This made me laugh a little

He turned and looked at me

Then he turned his head staight again

“well, nice chat”, he said

And with that he got up

And both he and the dog walked away

After a couple of minutes I grabbed my notebook, got ready to go

It was getting late and I was hungry

As I was leaving, something caught my eye

I looked down

There, crumpled on the ground, by the park bench

Was a Kit Kat wrapper

I smiled and thought how the dog’s real name was probably Bob

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

I Don’t Care And Neither Should You (A Note To The Neighbor Who Called Me An Asshole)

I don’t care and neither should you

I’m an asshole and I plan to stay this way

I like what I like and I don’t much care for

Whether you like it or not, or

Whether or not I’m liked

I’m stuck in my ways and my habits

For after all, they tell you habits are hard to break

And so are my ways and so am I

I sling random insults at people I hardly know

People a lot like you

If I’m having a bad day, the rest of the world should, too

I don’t care if this is unappealing or considered rude

You’d be this way too, if you viewed the world as I do

For after all, I’m just an asshole

And I plan to be this way

For a very, very long while

I would say, it’s easiest to some it up like this

I don’t care if you care or not

I don’t care if you stay or go

I won’t shed a tear when you pass

Like I said, I don’t care

I don’t care about it one way or the other

I don’t care, and neither should you

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

*Number 6 from Muses And Other Gauche Thoughts