thinking below ground

Late in the day
when the whether
has resolved into the done
and can’t be returned
for a refund,

and complaining
is still tiresome
as teenage logic,
and achievement
seems like magic,

I sit down here in my
subterranean office
and contemplate
lying still under clay
at the end of the day.

That’s when I wonder
whether anything I did
will remain above ground
or even be thought of
or possibly found;

or much more:
understood
if at all possible;
like the time I said my
test results were tossable;

and ordered a second death
by chocolate dessert
which I still enjoy
thinking about per-
versely to annoy

people who want me to
live forever.

(Visited 19 times, 1 visits today)
FavoriteLoadingAdd to favorites

About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in aging, Poetry, serial, thoughts below ground and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to thinking below ground

  1. gudgey says:

    Yo, remember the April green? One cloudy day, and it’s under the clay? Think green, as in solar chlorophyl for the hemoglobin. Red light ….Green light baby!!!!
    You know we always get those false springs that are punctuated with snow flakes. You’ve got a whole bunch of springs to go, yo.

    • riverwriter says:

      Could be, or maybe it’s just the effect of sitting lower than grass level when I write. Could be I should set up above grade, watch the parade of spring things happening.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *