Purgartory’s Southern Tip

On black pavement, I coughed up a pack of smokes and exhaled skywards in the lot just behind the office, watching the swiveling world teeter: three planes crossing overhead, two crows chasing a hawk, plumes reaching upwards, the last three leaves hanging off an autumn tree. There’s a funny thing with numbers, wondering if they add up to something. They do, they don’t.

I thought about the strange things I’ve seen in July: four men in business suits kicking a hackey sack outside a government building, a homeless bum sharing a two-liter bottle of cola with three compatriots, the melancholy impression of wind and rain, the last edge of a yellow moon. Some days it takes more energy to smile than frown. Other times it is the other way around. Smiling, frowning, smiling.

Then the in-between moments: when all you care for is a pillow, looking up into that unblinking eye.

16 thoughts on “Purgartory’s Southern Tip

  1. Pavement is reassuring. Previously, I had thought cold concrete was only comfortable when drunk, but that isn’t so. I also dozed off in a shopping cart this weekend and with the right bundle of jackets, it can be a most delightful experience.

  2. Pavement is reassuring. Previously, I had thought cold concrete was only comfortable when drunk, but that isn’t so. I also dozed off in a shopping cart this weekend and with the right bundle of jackets, it can be a most delightful experience.

  3. After careful thought and consideration, I am using your quote about “happy things” as the epigraph for the really really really HAPPY poem that I am writing. ^_^

    (Did I mention that it’s going to be REALLY happy?)

  4. After careful thought and consideration, I am using your quote about “happy things” as the epigraph for the really really really HAPPY poem that I am writing. ^_^

    (Did I mention that it’s going to be REALLY happy?)

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