25.5.20



blonde pine TV tray

on it was a large cobaltblue plate and five date pits

he didnt have to count

he figured everyone could count fiverecognise five

they were in the shape of a decapitated deer


five pens fanned out beside the plate to its right if a circular plate has sides

he didnt have to count

one can see five

four red Bics

one black Pentel a fine point pen

he knew that because they were his

he figured everyone knew what they had


five pens might seem too many  a little much

he didnt want to run out of ink an have to go lookin for another pen

he had a lot to say an preferred to say it in writing

there he could hold his tongue


writing chased off people who were easily bored or had poor vocabulary

who wanted to contend with short-attention spans

those tenants he found shallow 

shallow as muddied rain puddles

still able to reflect though drop a stone in them the stone hits bottom yet breaches the surface awkwardly


the TV tray was at his right elbow

he set his coffee down on it

its weight skewed the tray a sudden precarious wiggle  uneven on the clay tiles

quickly he grabbed the mug

he held it on top his thigh





the room seemed smaller this morning

it was an enclosed back porch

maybe it was the silence

nobody was talking


to his left ten feet off were illfitted French doors that led outside onto a cracked concrete apron

above the apron was a stout trellis wound by quiet brown wisteria vines  winter bare

he liked to choose one and follow its snaky path counting the bumps where buds would emerge and lengthen and purple in the Spring


he was visiting

helping

for the time being

whatever that time being would be


he was ambivalent

his time being stood across the TV tray from him

it didnt sit

it was as restless as he

it was a slight shade out of the corner of his eye miffed that he wasnt moving around  it knew that was his usual bent

he irritated it

baleful

if it had one iota of patience that weight would have dragged it down

rather

it hung above the tile in midair like a spider web hoping to snare him

then drag him away 

wrapped and coiled

writhing like a python

                          and escaping together


0929,  Thursday,  16  1. 20
1324,  Sunday,  24  5. 20

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