8
Convoy
Wake up 3:30. Lay there under
semi-open window. A crack. Air.
Gag a bit. Post-nasal drip.
Worse now that older. Pollen count,
the factory and well, should
quit smoking. Weird dreams.
Like movies. Sometimes know
and do things I wouldn't really do
knowing I can get away with it.
But comes off false. Can't get
away with anything. Can't sleep.
Go to bathroom. Cough up trail
of snot that's been working its
way down. Yuk. Piss. Go downstairs
and drink some water. Blow nose.
Think that's it but that isn't it.
Still down there. Maybe get
bronchitis. Maybe get pneumonia.
Oh, stop it. Drink more water.
Take the glass. That's it.
Lay back down, get another
hour's sleep, no, toss and turn.
No victim nor fascist hung
from TV mouthing the words.
No belly over belt yelling we are
Penn State with other bellies over
the belts. Jesus Christ. Where do
they come from and why do they
do what they do. Shut up.
Start to drift off again then window
above starts to rattle. Convoy.
Rubber and engine on asphalt down the
hill and through the trees five blocks away.
Shaking my window at 4 a.m. They never
stop, they keep breeding and building roads
and driving trucks and cars. They build malls
and mini-malls and subdivisions. Really,
shut up. Get up and make tea. See end of moon
swinging off end of night sky. Imagine people
downwind of highway. Cancer and dying trees.
Guitars and painting supplies sold for firearms.
Drink tea. Green with honey and lemon.
Brew another cup. Flick TV on and off.
Make hell frying pan sandwich.
Chopped ham and onion in olive oil
tossed on toasted multigrain bread.
Throw on slice of cheese. Christen it
Harrisburg Ruben, wrap it in foil and
go the fuck to work.
There's been street life, bar life and factory life. There's been songs with several bands, poems, stories, and home recordings. Poetry and prose have appeared in many journals going back to the late 80's. Novel - Dollhouse (Thieves Jargon Press). Only available print chapbook - Laundromat Suite (Rank Stranger Press). Web - http://bohobait.blogspot.com/. Currently working in a printshop in Harrisburg, PA with another novel I say I've been shopping around. Ha.
