40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam! – Day 12 – “Dappled Spectacle”

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“Dappled Spectacle”

We lived on the second floor growing up.

The sounds of neighborhood proximity danced through the screens and curtain sheers on sunny shadowed mornings.

The aliveness of the day pulled us out of our sweaty summer beds, and coaxed us out, out.

At times, our apartment felt like the sun, and we would need to escape outside to a Bunker Hill breeze.

There was one box fan for the whole apartment.

It toiled, satisfactory, but disappointing.

A dip in the Clougherty Pool, could take the sting off.

Then we’d play endless evening rituals, while our mothers squatted on park benches and smoked butts.

The Slush Guy would come ringing his bell.

Small 50¢, medium 75¢, large $1.00.

Lemon, Watermelon, Banana, or a Rainbow.

We’d haunt our mothers until they fidged quarters and moist dollar bills that smelled of tobacco from their change purses and cigarette cases.

My mother always kept her potential cigarettes in the refrigerator. She’d say, “it keeps them freshah.”

Summer nights lasted through orange-blue skies, that got further into shadow, just as the games of hide and seek would start to get good.

Then we’d hear the call.

Time to go back to the heat rising second floor walk-up.

Sweat the night, and be up all the earlier the next day, to get out into life.

A very special thank you, to the neighborhood of North Mead St. a great place to grow up, and share with so many great people. I truly miss them all, and dance with their ghosts as they wind their way through my head.

40/40: Summer Poem Slam-a-bam is a project in which people have joined me for 40 days and 40 nights of on-demand poetry. They have submitted the concepts, ideas, and subjects; I’ve done the rest.

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“In anticipation of your death”

Photo Courtesy of Pixaby-Link Here

 

 

“In anticipation of your death”

In anticipation of your death,

I wanted you to know,

that we wasted so much time.

That, we barely scraped the surface of truth between us.

So much is left unsaid.

So much won’t be said.

The majority of this was done out of psychological survival.

As your weapons grade narcissism,

only allowed for one person to speak at a time.

You were always this person.

In anticipation of your death,

I rejoice at the notion, that your gravity will no longer influence my orbit.

Mistakes were made,

people hurt.

Squandered days and nights,

nothing put right.

The truth between us:

you took me for granted, and I enabled that in you.

I thread the needle of spite, with a spool of gradual disappointments.

I will sew the seams of our straitjacket life,

and desperately donate it to charity.

Hopefully, it gets caught in a wayward dumpster and tears beyond repair.

Once it’s gone, I will breathe again.

Once you are gone, I will breathe again.

“Hickarado Incorporated”

“Hickarado Incorporated”

wedding

Thirteen years of friendship.

Partnered by choice.

Three testaments to teamwork.

A dog, a girl, two boys.

pats fans

A house once, now a home.

A barking business in the wings.

School runs and droopy diapers.

Life’s marrow, these little things.

begobah

Regardless of the ledger,

and all that we’ve been through.

There is no other human,

I’d do it with, but you.

skys the limit

 

Thank you for your attention,

and continual support.

Life’s easier to weather,

With you, Lissette, I’m sure.

DC