I don’t go to bed because I’m tired, I go to bed because I’m bored.
I hear movement outside, steel and rubber racing to find their children. School’s out.
I hear movement next door, a sign of life, beating hearts I’ve lived next to for two years yet have never had a conversation with. Right now, all I know is they have furniture to move. Maybe they are confused and lost in their own living room. Maybe they are creating room to dance. Or maybe they have to clean up all that blood…
Why paint a room the color of outdoors, just go outdoors. I’ve never understood why people plug smell in; electrified gardenia.
I think I’m getting old; I wait for the mail.
I think I’m experiencing male menopause, I don’t know how to dress for my age.
My bones know who I am, but I don’t know my bones. I’m built to move, all humans are, we’re not designed to lay or sit for hours. Move.
So maybe I’ll get up, go out, and enjoy natural colors and smells and say “Hi!” to my neighbors. They might even ask me for a mop.