Pedaling Man

A holiday afternoon bliss curled the Capitol

Cars hummed by, pedestrians shuffled across Rideau

The sun shone luxurious

Even the spires had color to in their tips

Past lunchtime by now

Sound and sight offered respite

The biker halted with the light

Lost in thought he waited

Body spilling over frame

Feet grounding his coiffed manner

It was him, an old friend

Swearing he crossed my mind moments before I approached

Pleasantries exchanged all seemed to pause

Tone almost awkward, speechless we became

He seemed beaten by the spirit yet showered

Defeated by something

Guilty in a longshoreman’s way

As if too many words had been said

And now he had to deal with permanence

Mercifully that light did change

He went his way, and I mine

Amusingly significant I thought, chuckling

With a blissful snap the hour returned

The creatures metallic and organic ticked once more

He must have moved back in with her. 

Clock

Wound hands tick neither fast nor slow

Moments bubble and recede with seen inevitability

Splashing the decks of my rational being

On and on the tock will flow endless as all can be

I am a mere steerage passenger on this grand voyage

Alone in the realization that time stands tall  

Dividing experience into corrugated half truths

The fruits still spill in the evening chorus of calamity

That confronts such a listless vessel

Every morning may rise with a mist

Carved with swollen eyes the sun will set

Judged to be joyless this existence traces circular

Around and around I absentmindedly foil the pockets

Those soggy instants of self-taught harmonization

That drop actualized thought beneath the layer time.   

Prince Street

Down Jamaica Plain way he took us one morning

The avenues were lined with pluming trees

Green with the season their branches shadowed the sun

It was my first time in this part of the city

Somehow I thought it had all been a bit more impoverished

What an idealist I am

This middle class village gave me a sigh

On the way out the squares seemed endless

Names like Harvard and Copley

Now on his street the trees still hung as they might

Protectors of his lost youth

Number nine was unremarkable

He had me park a short distance away

The names and years rolled from his tongue

Unfurling tales of his mysterious youth

On and on the tales spun

So and so lived there

The pond ice was checked by horses

Your great aunt lived there

After a spell he hushed and I put it in drive

Slowly our vehicle cruised past

My son in the back waved at the house

I turned to my father and nodded.  

Squirrel

Chef saw him first

Boom he shouted at the figure

Fists raised in a lonesome rush

The dark creature scurried high above the marble topped tables

Scaling the planters

Searching for a way through

Endless the teenager turned startled

Paused to see the unseen

Leapt across the high divide to the alley below

Mission busted by the vigilant

Above the planters and lattice was another patio

The music blared down on us

Assailing our taste

At least our young invader had failed

A chuckle was passed

All cover charge may not be avoided after all  

Our hands regrouped table side with ale

Easing with cushions we settled in

I and the cook

He in crisis I open eared.  

Snap

Adrift in thought

The tangible elements of me

Skin

Minute hairs

Pulse

Lose their place

A table setting askew

Time to check down  

Sift through the felt sense of reality

Balance this vessel

The warming sun strikes

A breeze waves through my mane

Chirping calls to my ears

Raw is the moment

Stinging with clarity

Opening salty eyes

I wipe away

Start anew with the seconds

Over and over

I must.  

Bill

Worked with a man once who spent time in prison

He was fresh out of the pen

Lifted weights for pleasure

Lived in a halfway house

Reported to the parole authorities on time

He liked my teams and had a mustache

Years ago he was high and blew a dealers head off

Kingston taught him a trade

He became near learned

The temptations still rose as they do in all of us

We joked and smoked together

Shared stories of our teams and a fair amount of drinks

After that period he began to worry

The board was on him

See he was to live to higher standards than me

He was tested and left my work

Heard down the wire that he’s hanging in there.  

5 am

Even felt was the stage I staggered from that fateful night

Peeling back the curtains the whiskey hi

Almost sputtering on the edge of an icy drive

Frozen was the dawn of a dastardly moment

Sure enough I became the vandal

Recognizing the labour of my own stupor

Weaving to the backdoor I punched at the code

Barking with the lowering moon

Chuckling at me

Given to the chill

I embarked on key retrieval

Found

In lock

Open

Stumble

I breathe

Crash

Bedside

Manner

Lost

On my

Primal release.5