image borrowed from bing
Monday, Monday
“My smile on Mondays is as insincere as
a Rush Limbaugh apology.”--Anonymous.
Awakened loudly by Z.Z. Top,
prompting me to be a sharp dressed man;
reaching wrong twice before the damn singing
from the clock-radio was silenced.
The room felt cold, so regret put its fist
into the small of my back regarding
the partially-open bedroom window--
the traffic noise from the street
was already heavily & loudly
in motion;
car horns,
engines revving,
brakes squawking,
trains clanking & blasting
shrilly, all playing their
early morning urban symphony.
The bulky quilt my mother had made
was pulled up to my chin;
it whiffed of cat & night sweat;
the insane warmth from my curled-up body
encased me in inertia, made me
re-imagine the Monday dream scenario--
you know the one where I call in sick,
slip back to sleep until 10 a.m.
then spend the whole day
sitting around in my gym duds
& dirty underwear listening to jazz & blues,
& perhaps composing some of my own
on the piano.
I opened my eyes, embracing mostly darkness
as the morning’s brightness stirred up thirty
kinds of shadows dancing around the room;
there was no object perception, hadn’t been any
since I was four years old.
I tripped on one of my dress shoes
moving sleepily from the bed
to the bathroom. Living alone,
I felt free to yelp & shout shit
without recrimination.
The hot shower pounded my scalp,
kick-started my heart,
cleared my head; still loving
the lemon herbal scent
of my shampoo, & the clean floral
smell of my thick fuzzy towel
on my unshaven face.
Coltrane serenaded me
throughout my bathroom habituals;
the English Leather splashed on
after playing kissey-face with my Norelco
was extra spicy.
Picking out my clothes was easy;
the braille tags were still extant
& my sainted mother had arranged
everything according to my wishes.
I always enjoy the feel of my silk ties,
picking the red dragon one
I was pretty sure, wrapping it tightly
over the left & right sides, making
a wide knot, & checking the length
until it just touched my belt buckle,
then tossing it cavalierly over my shoulder,
keeping it out of the instant cinamon/apple
oatmeal & soy milk, accompanied
by two pieces of Texas toast
slathered in real butter
and a large cup of black coffee.
Soon I had given Butch some good-day
strokes after checking his crunchers
& water bowl, slipped into my Bogart
trench coat, picked up my leather briefcase,
my red & white folding cane,
& was double-locking my apartment door
when my cell phone rang, or more accurately
Michael Jackson sang Beat It.
It was Jimmy, he was already here,
double-parked outside, telling me
that I needed to haul butt.
“Be right there, asshole--tell me
if my socks don’t match this time.
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over on dVerse Poets Poetics
Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?
27 comments:
smiles...composing my own jazz and blues..i would love to do this... need to get my sax out.. nice job on all the details...the lemon herbal shampoo..the feel of the silk ties.. the socks made me smile...had my own sock story this morning...haha
ha i like the embedded soundtrack in this...songs i am familiar with...i wanted to stay in bed today and not get up...mmm love the towel smell as well....smiles at the close....its interesting to think as well ont he little things that would be different if we lost our sight...would def take more organization than i am used to....
This is quite a tale you have woven here, Glenn. You have really given the reader a picture of what it must be like to be blind. Made me think back to English Leather. Reminiscent of a man I had a crush on in my youth. Wonder if it still exists. Wonder how the guy knew he had the red dragon tie though...unless it was his only silk tie; and wonder if he had seen it at one time or another. Yup, it sure would be hard to match those socks!
Ah I really like the walk through a blind morning.. the unmatched socks really made me laugh.. I think walking a blind man's shoes you did great. Choosing a tie by how it feels.. that's indeed a challenge.. maybe it's the hot-pink one with decorated with salmon-heads.
Really enjoyed the details of morning Glenn from the daydreaming to the shower to the taste of breakfast ~
I like the upbeat song in the end, Beat it ~ Hopefully the socks matched, smiles ~
Okay that's pretty much a one act play - love the way your work is a process of revealing new worlds!
Wow, your Monday dream scenario matches mine :) Vivid, clever and one that takes the prompt a giant step forward.
Now there'a a real "sharp dresser"--goes to show you can do anything if you put your mind to it (in spite of the occasional mismatched sock slipup). Good job developing your character by running through his routine and presenting all the sensory interactions he experienced.
Powerful take on the prompt, Glenn! I enjoyed the attention to details, the sounds and smells. I like the image of the "early morning urban symphony" although I prefer to sleep in a quiet place than in the city.
"early morning urban symphony" a very lovely symphony you describe. It is amazing how much of our senses are engaged from the moment we wake up. I enjoyed traversing your routine in the dark of early morning.
Details are your forte Glenn and I think you have hit on all of them. >KB
This is a marvellous response to the prompt .... so much imagery captured here. I will be reading this through several times to take in all the detail.
Mornings are so full of tiny details, and yet most of the time, we don't notice them in our morning trance - dulled by repetition, day after day, after day. You highlighted these so well - thank you!
This is terrific, Glann. I love how you incorporated music and you painted such a clear visual for me without any visual cues. That, my friend, is responding to the prompt!
The poem tells a heck of a story, and you've used the senses lavishly - though I have to say that there is a lot of the visual,(red dragon etc) but a blind person would maybe focus on detail like socks matching etc. A tour de force!
did you actually go through part of the day blind-folded? you really brought the reader in
Strong, with that rugged edge you bring. I laughed at the starting quote, it's like the pres saying he's telling the truth.
Interestingly Glenn, the Monday blues afflicts everyone in basically the same way. If not for the different brands mentioned the ritual is reminiscent of one's bachelor days of carefree moments. Great write!
Hank
Love the shower smells, the unshaven face with towel & razor. And spunky!
Enjoyed the rich details - the smell, the music and the comfort you build here. Wonderful piece Glen, like the fun element too. Smiles.
he sounds gnarly =)
it is a curious thing to imagine a morning without light
i wonder how people pattern their body clock
Excellent detail Glenn and enjoyed walking through your life as you told it.
Very convincing through details. You've created a sightless world, but certainly not a handicap.
I especially like the rich details, not a single whiff of self-pity, and sense of humor throughout ~
Wow. I'm just blown away. This rocks. This kicks ass. This does everything but SEE! Buddy you are so good.
Interesting, I read this going hmmm, what sense are we inhabiting, and it's not that we're given over to a dominant, but rather thriving in the absence of one. Momentum was already established so that when the fact is announced in stanza seven, I read right through it. Maybe it needs more of an announcement earlier on? Reading back through it with that awareness, it strikes me how blind Mondays are not dissimilar in any way that I can tell from seeing ones; we read for the emotional landscape, the details read fine however they're perceived ... Also in this there is a fine sense that a rich inner world suffices for whatever the surface world lacks. Fine work, Glenn.
You did an amazing job of capturing the rote routine of sightless person step-by-step as they prepare to face their day ahead. I especially liked the last line--there's always that one 'friend' who'll find amusement in something like mixed socks. I liked the use of "real butter," a man after my own heart--life's too short not to use, but am wondering at the reference to "smell of cat"? I have two cats, perhaps I've been around too long, but I don't think they have an odor (except for maybe litter box sometimes). I understand the "smell of dog" better. Just saying'! Really enjoyed reading this detailed and well-done piece.
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