Clunk - Clunk, Klang

 

The morning dew had never entered my mind until I sat on the park bench.  Then the reality of it began to soak in. 

They left no post in my box today, no letter from you, no package from up North.  Am I to wait another full day to hear any news?   Yesterday’s correspondence still sits beneath the table lamp, unopened.  Your seal upon the flap suggests waiting to open it will be difficult, but per your instructions, it remains untouched until Friday. 

The gold dollar fell from my pocket, but having landed upon the carpet it made no sound and went unnoticed by me and others. Its presence, however, was announced quite loudly when it entered the janitor’s vacuum. 

The time that lapsed between one event and the other, reminded me of the slow entrance made by the morning dew.

 

 

ZC

Code Bluish

 

The distance between myself and a stranger with a clipboard is one stumble.

 

In the blink of an eye, I could become the topic of discussion.

 

The line between intensive care and in memoriam is flat.

 

 They are building a new hospital just down the road.  They have already begun to fill the halls with pacing and spray the chairs with Uncomfort.  Opening day is scheduled to happen immediately after the odd and strange smells have been added.  Supply closets have been stacked with extra cases of worry.  To prepare the surrounding neighborhoods, the sounds of distant sirens are being broadcast over loudspeakers.

 

 

             ZC

Note:

Uncomfort is a little known brand name.
It works similarly to discomfort but is
a time-released system, activated by
an individual's anxiety.

  

You haven't seen me

 

Hiding amidst the toys

both battery and wind-up

Plastic ones and wood

metal ones of rust

cross-legged on the carpet

I never want to grow up

pretend you haven’t seen me

adulthood’s not for me.

 

Living in pretend land

there aren’t so many rules

No one eats their vegetables

no one goes to school,

There isn’t any 9 to 5

no bills addressed to me

I never have to drive a car

I swear I didn’t see –

someone in the crosswalk

the sun so very bright

please just leave me be.

It's Never Too Late

 

I’ve always been a crab that has walked a straight line.  While my schoolmates pushed the envelope and tested the waters, I obeyed the crossing guards and never wrote in my books.  Although, looking back, it seems they experienced life, while I only passed through it.  On the positive side, I am still surrounded by margins just begging for a ZC footnote.  

 

 ZC

Rumpelstiltskin

 

You should know me by now

I’ve not changed my seat

these are the same fingers

that keep hitting delete,

 

No, I won’t change my password

I won’t play your game

Your face recognition

should remember my name,

 

I’ve seen every photo

that shows a stop light

and each time you’ve shown it

I’ve gotten it right,

 

Just what is your problem

I know it’s not me

you’re making this harder

than it needs to be,

 

I’m pulling your plug

it’s not me it’s you

my pencil still works

it’s my old number two.

 

 

 So there.

            Zobostic Corwin

 

 

 

 

and in closing...

 

So when does it get to be my turn?  I’d like to lay down. I’d like to rest.  I’m tired.  I could use a break. What about me?

 

I found the above chiseled onto a headstone.  I’m guessing they got their turn.  I’ve seen some grave markers with humorous things on them, reflective of the occupant, I’m guessing.  Mostly, however, are the standard statements, Born________  Died_________  Loving father or Devoted Mother, or Pesky Brother, blah, blah, blah.

 

And who are these last statements for?  It is either the odd passer-by, or the grounds keeper.  As I wasn’t cutting the grass or pulling the weeds, I guess I was the odd passer-by.

 

I have brought my camera on such adventures, in hopes of what, I’m not sure.  But, you never know…

 

Only once, did I get a very strong feeling that I wasn’t welcome, and I should leave.  I did.

 

 

 

            ZC

The Missing Bits

 

It’s everything together.  It’s the hum when I start the computer, it is the light from my monitor that illuminates my desk, and it is the strong aroma of my morning coffee that makes me feel that I am right where I should be.

Some of the missing bits are the rocking motion of being below deck on a ship, although that’s fine with me.  Thinking of the perfect topic – something blog worthy, something so amazing that… well, had I thought of it, I would have put it here instead of this.

Having all of this outside, instead of in here.  Being warmed by the sun, having the breeze tiptoe across the keyboard and maybe having all of the crows watch and see how this is done, so maybe next time they can do it for themselves.  I shouldn’t have to write everything.  They could accept some responsibility, don’t you think? 

They are the ones always yelling, complaining about this and that.  But, then… If I had my desk out in the driveway, all of those pesky dog walkers would be stopping to chat.  “Hi Zobostic, what are you working on?”  “Hey there, how’s it going?”  And, of course, I’d lean over and pat the dog.  Now I wouldn’t want to pick up my donut without first washing my hand.  NO, I guess in here is just fine.

 

 

ZC