Another Sunday Night In My Porcelain Bed.
'Another Sunday night in the porcelain bed. '-and- 'Daybreak!'
It's twenty-five degrees outside
Ice pellets are tap-tap-tapping on my windowpanes
another one of those annoying reminders
of the still distant Spring
which has been divorced from my life
for many months now
but I am without a care
immersed in a tranquilizing
liquid warmth..a blanket of hot wetness
a cushion of H2o..
that covers all of my
and various digits
except for the one
that keeps peeking
out of the...
tiny bay that lies
just south of the naval base
between the Islands of "Myknees."
not the Loch Ness Monster...
but more of a petulant water snake
in a much larger, moister
and somewhat warmer environnment
then it is used to
I've finished three chapters of
a somewhat dry book
and I've mentally rehashed
the arduos task of conditioning
my hair...but the heat
and relaxational effects
of this vaporous pool
cause me to declare
an unconditional surrender
on the territory of my headlands
I carelessly wave a white washrag
flagging it...and dragging it
across the crucial hotspots
that are still left contaminated
by the residual soap scum
of my earlier efforts
Then with a long sigh of dismissal
my entire continent of flesh
all 180 pounds and -achers
pulls free with
and tidal flows swirl
in the bottom of my porcelain bed
then soon snugly wrapped
in my heated Cannon towels
I lie face up
in the prone position
in my Serta perfect sleeper
till I doze
the battle I must face
morning(mourning)-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ©-MFB III
More by this Author
The Garden Of People. ©-MFB III- ArtWhimsically Yours studio The tranquil winds murmur beneath the church steeples bending grass blades in grief over gardens of people each furrow's well-tended, irrigated with...
"When quiet shatters...its pieces can scar you forever." ~ "Somebody help me.....please call 911!!" a lady cried banging on my screened entrance in a staccato of fear yanked brusquely from the...
An extract remarks a north. Peace Sleeps in the the Dust of Lost Dreams. © -MFB III They came to the old hippie, a poet of great merit, asking him for hope. just some peaceful solutions freshly penned, ...