The Ghost Convention

-

I wonder

when I’m not home

if my furniture

which always appears

on the surface as

soft-hearted and suppotive

gathers to talk about me

and wonder why I never take them

to the park for a walk

or sneak them snacks

other than the occasional

rogue popcorn kernals

that parachute into

the enermy territory of cushion cracks

where they will go 

ignored and undigested

for centuries to come.

Perhaps radio voices will emerge

like Brian Lehrer

and take listener phone calls

to discuss their opinions of me

like Luis who is calling from the Bronx

who thinks I’m an asshole

and P.S. Go Yankees!

or Karen from Park Slope

whose pronoun is they

who thinks I’m really sweet

because I always cry

like I’m the lead in Dear Even Hansen

when I watch 

Tik Tok videos of 

returning soldiers getting hugged like

they’re on hiemlich maneuvers

or when children wail like the front

row at the Eras tour

when mommy and dad

give them a puppy

even it’s a chihauhau

which you know,

just keep that thing in your purse.

Maybe Siri or Alexa

debate my choice of pornography

Wait.  Did I say that outloud?

Perhaps my mattress interprets my dreams

which within seconds are always

reduced to shredded memory foam

While appliances short circuit 

when they try to justify my existence

Or maybe all the ghosts of my life

of which there are many

some born as recently as a few months ago

gather at the trade convention of me

with name tags and funny hats

to sing my favorite songs

dance in the aisles

and simply love me

because I will never let them go.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What Must Babies Think?

-
What must babies think, As they wonder why their Push pram rocket ship Which on most days thrusts them Into the universe of the fiery sky ball and chatter filled park Sits mothballed in the corner Staring at the wall like White-haired bench people Who always seem so Sad and forgotten? What must dogs think The Wal Mart greeters of the Animal world Who use the sign language Of the excitable nose and tail To communicate their borderline insane love for anything that moves When they trot out first thing In the morning like they’re in competition at Westminster Only to discover A show of silent concrete? What must jets think Who usually cannibalize people Until their bellies are full When the only in-flight meal Is a flight crew Two pilots And 900 steerage ghosts Who sit Without hope or destiny In the kind of Quiet That follows anyone Who has ever walked Away from a grave? What must birds think The cocky pigeons The Blue-header vireo Or the Y...
Read more

EVERY WORD

-
Image
Every word Which we have the freedom to use Is a boy Or a girl as fresh as a prom corsage in a pine box In a bone white church That sits high atop a field of markers a million Stars of Bethlehem Many of whom will share the name Unknown. Every word Which we have the freedom to use Is someone’s dream Someone’s child Someone’s love Someone’s pain which the wind has carried off the returning flight of dust and seeds to an unimagincally distant place which is reachable solely by the asphyxiating ache of a parent’s prayer. Every word Which we have the freedom to use is as holy and sanctified as the endless death march miles of desiccated battlefields and lost at sea oceans which stand as memorials constant reminders that words are meant for Declarations of love and independence and Constitutions, Anthems and Pledges of Alleigenace and vows and plays and scientists and philosophers and bibles. There is a reason that our very first word and ou...
Read more

IT'S ONLY WORDS

-
Image
Those of us of a certain age of Aquarius remember that tune. For those of you whose taste runs along the lines of K-Pop, it was a big hit released by The Bee Gees in 1968. “It’s only words and words are all I have, to take your heart away.” According to Robin Gibb, “Words reflects a mood.   It was written after an argument.   Barry had been arguing with someone.   Robin had been arguing with someone and happened to be in the same mood.   The arguments were about absolutely nothing. They were just words.   That is what the song is about: words can make you happy or words can make you sad.” 1968 was a hell of a time in America.     The year began with the Tet Offensive in the midst of the Vietnam War, Martin and Bobby were assassinated, cops and protestors clashed in Chicago and even though the Civil Rights Act was passed in April, a particularly strong showing   by segregationist George Wallace   highlighted the strong e...
Read more