Dogs 2010

DAY OFF
(11/6/10)


alarm clock
dead
shot through
the head

breakfast
of coffee
and sugar cookies
all vitamins
and supplements
imprisoned
in darkened
cupboards

work
a distant
nightmare
the commute
a clownish memory
mocked
in measured
rhythms

household
chores
no longer
nagging
from lists
crumpled

discarded

loud music
filling
a house
inhabited
by only one

other
occupants
gratefully away
on busy rounds
resplendent
with responsibility

the doorbell
rings
diminishing echoes
the phone
plays
insistent songs
but all attempts
at discourse
are ignored
as pictures
are drawn
on dusty
hardwood
floors

the sun
angles
through windows
filtered by trees
and semi-blinded
Venetians
to create
a cryptic
light show
upon seemingly
moving
walls

messages
written
and received
in apathetic
pallor
meaning
everything

nothing

thinking
too much
maybe time
for a walk
but the couch
becomes
a black hole
non-event horizon
already crossed
as the body
collapses
due gravity's
demand

eyes close
again
9:30am
and no one
gives
a damn