Waiting For The Sun

the beaten path?
the beaten path?

Here’s the other Doors inspired piece I read at the Plasticine open stage –

Waiting For The Sun

what do I remember

I woke up this morning

morning is a time of day

no one knows what time is

the hours get minced into fragments

ground into flickers of recollection

that blink off before the tv sparks up

to chase away true recall

it’s not the forgetting that I mind

it’s not knowing

if the fragments I have

are mine or something I saw on tv

did I drill those holes in the garage

or was that the beaver

was that me the dog saved

or was it timmy

or was it tommy

tommy can you hear me

was it old cape cod

or lucy in the sky

the shift of gauze

the threads of memory

splay across the window

as the breeze plays

through the curtains – lace

did my mother make those for me

did my sister or did I

am I waiting for the sun

or slipping into unconsciousness


stairway to heaven?
stairway to heaven?

This was sparked by waking one morning & not being sure what day it was. Not having a ‘real’ job to get to sometimes days of the week lack that sort of definition. Title seems fitting today, as we all wait for the sun to warm us up here in Toronto – the spring tease of a hot summer.

ants out of my pants
ants out of my pants

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