the power
cycled
on and off
each time
blaring out
electronic
symphonies
the winding up
and immediate
discharge
for hours
through the
night and
i knew this
morning would
be rough but
even a pessimist
can over guess
the quality of
a monday morning
as my phone
goes off with
new calls on
the same machines
yet somehow
everything has
gotten worse.

i have no coffee
just the bitter
taste of nigh
exhaustion on
my too thick tongue
as the crickets
scream in the
false darkness
of a city buried
under gray skies
and a fool with
a stomach ache
at war with the
war drums booming
in my hollow head
as i stumble out
to face the day
in bleary dismissal
unprepared for
the world at large.

a haggard fool
blowing kisses out
the window as
the dreary doldrums
pound nails into
my aching sense
of deteriorated self
whispering my love
between heavy sighs
drowned out by
the cricket choir
and high humidity
one miles at a time
until the road leads
back to home again
where i can rest
my weary head on
the pillow filled
with sleepless
declarations of love
to the wildflowers
in her gentle smile.