Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.


November 1, 2008

he moves through the posh playground
walking with that aimless walk
of a man who is going nowhere
caught between this place
and somewhere else

absent from the moment
of children climbing
and running
and sliding
and laughing

a ball and chain
pressed to his face
the buttons glow
as he says something vague,
“can we go over that again?”
feigning mastery
with his absence of input
navigating this sea of laughter
to find someplace quiet

an illusion to the one he’s with
he’s here, and not
an abstraction to the office
connected, but vacant
pleasing some illusive ‘other’
punching two clocks
blowing a smokescreen
waiting for the game to end

I watch him over the shoulder
of my daughter
heroically resisting the urge
to reach for my Moleskine
and write it all down
to collect the words
before they run away

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