I make no claims to being a poet. This is simply what came to me yesterday as the Pixie and I walked through our neighborhood in the rain.
The Walk
The world is mine today
Empty, abandoned
In the wake of some apocalypse
I must have slept through this morning
Dull little houses line
Oil-slicked streets
Blank windows, locked doors
Sing a requiem
for Suburbia
The ground is black
And bitter as used coffee grounds
The sky is gray
As my mood
Or the hair I found
This morning
One wiry antennae
Sticking straight up
From my skull
Receiving all messages of
Doom and gloom
Doom and gloom
Gloom and doom
Mist wraps around me
A second, clammy coat
My bat black umbrella
Flaps overhead
The leaden sky bleeds acid rain
Forcing all the sugar mamas
To stay inside
And gawk as I shuffle by
They’ll melt, they’ll melt
My god, they’d melt!
If they ever set foot outside
But I don’t have
That concern today
I’m old and sour
As a basket
Of assholes
And the rain, the rain
Fits me like a glove
Doom and gloom
Gloom and doom
The world is mine
The world is grey
And I shuffle through it
A zombie at home
In the damp, in the dead
In the swampy mists
Only one thing seems amiss
One small detail out of place
The little Pixie who dances
At my side
Her tiny pink coat
Is a shocking wound
In all this glorious misery gray
It rips me
Out of my stupor and into
A world where squirrels
Natter and birds
Shriek and shrill and puddles
Wait to be stomped
Splash and dash!
Dash and splash!
She flits around
The little busy buzzy bee
Tearing my world apart
Her high pitched giggle
Like a sword-thrust
To my senses
Simply kills my good bad mood
Like holy water on vampires
I am forced to step out of my
Steaming gothic remains
Into the world of the living
Again
Splash and dash!
Dash and splash!
Look Mama
A bird!
A squirrel!
Another puddle!
The world is hers
Not mine
I hope I can surrender it
With grace
