July 13, 2013

accessible optimism

the construction noise
from the lot next door is
unusually quiet.

the men,
escaped into reveries.
silent and disappeared.

luckily today there is no
sense of urgency
and I've closed the door
for a private quiet shower. 

the water is cold
the air humid--
low lying grey clouds
stagnate across this city.

"look daddy!"
the door flung open.
she has learned a new hoola hoop trick.

"close the door!"
we grab and hold onto poems
when and where we can.

i see a reflection in the glass door
the body feels foreign
tired, awkwardly shaven
and aged.

the eyes familiar.
the rest:
wild haired and bearded
matted down by the onslaught
of water.

i close my eyes
the water rushing over my face
rinsing away
the fatigue, the fear.

thoughts drift to the
pretty boys and girls
sculpted and glamor glazed
in the pages of the magazines.
the screens and city walls
promising convenient
accessible optimism,
everywhere we look.

six packs and five O'clock shadows
the hip kids
eclipsing another middle aged man
standing in the shower
gripping what's left of his youth.
his blood circling the drain.

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