Stranded

Stranded.

I don’t want to be stranded

like Robinson Crusoe

on an island

of pain

with no rescue in sight

another weekend;

so, doc,

can you fill out

the prescription again

that one with real bite?

Party

You’ve just had two hours of chemo

and an injection of white blood cells.

And you’re jumping out of yr skin

Where’s the party ? you say.

Where’s the party?

But there’s no party.

There’s only the house meeting.

That will do, you say.

You can turn that into a party.

Bad Prophet

You prophesy

there’s a flood coming

so I make a run for it

dash inside

flip the lid —

there’s only a trickle.

You fickle !

Sleep

I sleep in short sentences.

Hiding Place: a Tiny Tale

Hiding Place.

Was wondering where the cat snoozed sunny afternoons

when I turned the hose on some groggy –looking gardenias

in a cloistered corner of the yard

and found out

as a cat bounded out of the bushes into the clearing

as if she were scalded

But What If I …

But What If I ….

I don’t think I can run anymore.

What?

I run out of puff. I can walk fast though. Does that count?

But you’re a running joke. Can’t you push yourself?

But what if I damage my hamstring?

Then you’ll become a lame joke. Get it?

Hey, I’m the one supposed to be cracking the jokes here.

Then run, for god-sakes, run.

*pic courtesy of pinterest

Lady Bay

Lady Bay

Molly and Tom are sipping G & T’s on the porch of their third room apartment overlooking the golf course.

“It is so peaceful here, “ Molly remarks.

The main road passes the links where cars pick up speed after leaving the confines of a 50 k zone but their roar is swallowed by the distance from the apartments and the vastness of the course.

Just then Tom’s eyes lift as he notices a vehicle driving over the green. It has just come off the road.

It slows down and stops. Two figures in dark blue uniform dash out.

“It looks like a police van,” Tom remarks. “What are they doing on the course?”

Just then three shots ring out. Then silence. There is a scuffle of some sort. Within a few minutes the van drives off.

Later at dinner Tom and Molly learn from their waiter that a king ‘roo had been hit by a SUV and wandered onto the course, broken and bloody, “scaring the bejesus out of the oldies”.

That it was the night before Halloween did not go unnoticed.

Siberia

Siberia

We arrived late at night. That may have been the reason.

Or maybe our reputation preceded us.

Either way we ended up in Siberia, Room 313 , the furthest most room from the front desk, next to the storage area.

Adele, the desk clerk, wasn’t much help. In her effort to be genial, she often hit the wrong note.

Eventually, we got our keys and lugged our baggage down the long, long corridor, the shadows across the carpet hulking and ominous.

By the time we got to our room we were stuffed,

We stripped off and hopped beneath the covers of the king size bed.

That’s when I realized we had company.

The figure beside me shifted uneasily  

Stunned and Panicky

Stunned and Panicky

I wake up suddenly

stunned and panicky

like a ‘roo caught in the headlights

of a big rig

an eighteen wheeler

tunneling thru the darkness.

My senses are all rinsed.

I leap out of bed

into the hysterical light of morning

pour myself a coffee

settle back into my little

skew whiff home.

• pic courtesy of pinterest

Some Men

 
Some Men
 
Some men walk around with their hands clasped behind their backs as if handcuffed, their posture stooped. They look like they’ve given up on life, prisoners of age and ennui. If ever I get like this, I tell my partner, shoot me.