Day: April 10, 2015

(stare)

eyes staring away

with memories forgotten

filling the wild mind

full of thoughts never grasped to

not enough strength to hold on

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Disgruntled Dispositions

Twenty minutes after ordering

And I still don’t have my burger

The coffee, left in my cup

Has grown cold

And I’m pretty sure it’s decaf

The crowd is thin

And most of my attention

Is focused on the table in the corner

A man and a women

Who seem to be neck-deep in a heated conversation

I can’t hear their words,

But their body language and gestures tell me so

I can’t seem to figure out

What the arguing is about

Or who’s at fault

Or who’s winning

What I do know, however

Is I’m thankful

For their disgruntled dispositions

Because I’m hungry and impatient

And in need of real caffeine

And thanks to their unfortunate set of circumstances

My waitress with escape

Without a verbal lashing

And with a tip,

If that burger ever gets here

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

 

Wreck

I let myself in, on the passenger side

Her car is like an airplane wreck

Shit scattered everywhere

The floor on my side

Has discarded, empty cigarette packs,

Shoes, a sports bra, worn socks and

About a thousand hours worth of CD’s

I lightly kick clear room for my feet

Careful as I go,

For I’d hate to trigger a possible bear trap

Or disturb this plane’s missing black box

“I won’t get bit by anything, will I?”

She laughs this off

Then goes into a rant about how embarrassing

This car is

How she’s been meaning to get to it

I guess she has more important things to do

“If I do, you’ll have to pay for the rabies shots”

Again I’m met with carefree laughter

We’re on the way to my house

She’s asked repeatedly to barrow a CD from me

And now was as good a time as any

Thankfully the ride to the house is a short one

I step gingerly from the wreck

I’d hate to have to make her pay for a tetanus shot

On top of the rabies shot

We go in

And I give her a beer, while I find the disk

I reappear and hand it to her

And as she leaves she fills me

With a promise to copy it

And give it right back

“Keep it.  My gift to you.”

For we both know

It’ll never be returned

Because, once it makes its way to the crash site

There will be very little chance of survival

© D J Loweman 2015