And that's as real as it will ever get from here

bells clang to the hour
voices below
on street,
quiet suburban street,
where no doubt
picnics and bar-b-ques are
planned,

slow drawl of daylight/
sunlight breaking clouds,

grind of plastic on
pavement,

chair legs? can't think
of anything else

somewhere a father scratches his
ass, thinks about relatives,
burgers, beers, wife, kids,
friday off and this is what I got
to put up with?

he grunts or sighs

he heads back into the house

coffee is heating breakfast is waiting

or at least I like to think,

but whatever if it's not and
all the same it's happening
out there in my head
and that's
as real as it will ever get
from here.

As a Dog Barks

The Hunt
by Dexter Gordon?

usually don't guess
right but

that's what's playing:

July 4th 2014

8:53 am

my phone turns itself
off during that night,
never the day

day looks like rain, but
it's not raining

I shit, shower

head doesn't hurt any longer.

I should get a beer, I says,
I'm a writer, it would make sense.

I don't. I hear children playing outside,

I left my window cracked, the gray
sky leaks inside, now
everything is gray

this doesn't feel like independence

a strange metallic sound outside,
car, sounds off,

these guys (Filipinos & Mexican
guys) are always out working on
their cars, I don't know enough
to know what they're doing,

I missed out on that part of manhood.

I've held a pen,
typed instead.

Sun peeks through clouds offscreen

it's all starting to look different

it's July 4th, 9:38am

I'm typing poems as a dog barks.