Thoughts from the Chair

 

I never did what I was accused of, and yet their legal system, like an out-of-control river, has swept me along until I now find myself strapped to this chair, while serious faces look on.   

There was a time when I thought someone would speak up, tell the truth, explain everything.  Obviously, that didn’t happen.  There are nuggets of truth tucked within the court transcripts, but the overgrowth of twisted words and legal underbrush has completely distorted the landscape.  The real truth has been plowed under and is no longer recognizable.   

Nobody has yet allowed their eyes to meet mine.  It’s like they know I’m innocent and making eye contact with me would increase the guilt they feel of allowing this thing to continue.  And surely, should the truth surface after I am gone, they would have to live with the image of my eyes for the rest of their existence.  They knew and did nothing.

 

 

Far Removed

The war is someplace on television.  My Amazon package, I expect, is riding around the neighborhood, getting closer and closer to being delivered.  I have nothing to do with that whole system.  I just placed the order.  It seems like I am an extra, on a movie set, waiting for my name to be called.  The days are passing but I’m not really a part of it.  Life is taking place, but over there someplace. 

I just checked, and yes – my coffee is out for delivery.  The replacement coffee pot is also expected today but not yet out.  I guess waiting for someone to put it on the truck. Let’s hope they don’t drop it, I don’t have much duct tape.

 

Z.

 

 

Wait - Wait - Don't tell me

 

The greatest thought I’ve ever had, 

and I without a pen.

What was the thought that I did have?

Not only where but when?

 

What caused the thought, I wish I knew

Will I ever get it back?

I need my brain to stop and think

To recall that bit I lack.

 

I knew the moment it was here

How grand a thought it was,

Every aspect of it worked

and I knew just how it does.

 

If I could just recall it once

I’d jot it down post haste

I’d sniff it, feel it, lick it too

and remember how it tastes.

 

I’d never let it slip away

That thought which seemed so grand

It ended wars, and cured the cold

and saved the fate of Man.

 

 

 

 zc

 

 

...and with the push of a button

 

It was something Steven King or Edgar Allen Poe would have thought of, and unfortunately, for some unknown reason, the thought came to me.  So now, I shall write it down here and see if you cringe as I did. 

It began with leaving the door to the microwave open momentarily, with a plate of meat inside.  Then casually closing the door and start pushing the buttons, unaware a fly had flown in.  It is the excruciating terror of thinking what was happening to the fly when it was suddenly bombarded by the microwaves.   What a hideous way to go.  I didn’t want to think of it eventually exploding all over the inside.

 

 

Crime Scene - A True Story

 

I felt it the moment I awoke this morning.  It was an odd feeling, not the usual Monday morning dread, this was different.   Even the air was still.  Something was wrong but what?  The house was silent but there was a feeling about it.  I put my robe and slippers on and cautiously walked out to the living room.  So far nothing appeared to be out of place. 

I glanced up at the wall clock.  7am.  Soon the trash truck would be coming by.  I thought for a minute… No, that wasn’t it.  I remembered putting the trash out at the curb last night.  Then, as I rounded the wall to the kitchen I saw it.  Mr. Coffee was dead.  He just sat there on the counter, slumped over, lifeless.   My first thought was to not touch anything.  If this was not a natural death, I didn’t want to contaminate anything.  I’ve seen enough cop shows to know that much.

What’s the matter with me, of course it was a natural death, who would want to murder Mr. Coffee?  I looked around the kitchen, still leery of touching anything.  I could see the electrical cord still plugged into the outlet, but there were no lights on or blinking.  There was a slight hint of an odor, but that was probably normal around a body.

I slid open the junk drawer and took out a Sharpie, a small note pad and some string.  I was going to have to make a toe tag, but as I stood so close to the counter, I noticed grounds scattered around.  “Wait a minute…  was there a struggle?  Maybe I was wrong to jump so quickly to natural causes.”

No, I couldn’t let my mind run amuck with these kinds of thoughts.  I was going to have to transfer him to a barstool and use that as a gurney and roll him out to the curb before the trash people come by. 

Hardly a fitting end, I know.  No service, no words, just kick him to the curb.  But hey- what can I say?  I haven’t had my coffee yet, and it didn’t look like I was going to.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's Sloppy

 

But it is still a row.

An Amazing Friend

 

Only once, so far, have I encountered someone whose face matched their personality and how they lived their life.  Always had a positive attitude, always upbeat and cheerful no matter what was going on in his life.  He always greeted everyone with a smile and had a kind word to say.   He was an engineer but I always thought he would have made a good minister.  He wasn't just smiling for the camera, he was smiling at life.