The highest mountain ain’t always the tallest.

As I approach my seventh decade of life, I find myself, once again a general laborer.  Though no longer in my teens or twenties, it is in very good company that I find myself.

Bukowski, Basquiat and Vivian Maier.

They are each right here with me, sweating out a days work on cheap whiskey, strong coffee and long nights enjoined by memories of our ignorant youths. Oh, how we love our art and how we laugh at ourselves.

He kissed me
I kissed him
We played
We snuggled
We slept together

He was mine
I was his
Forever
He said so
Such happiness

Then she came
Now I pace
Unwanted
Unloved
And alone

hear the ducks and geese
in the fog on a pond unseen
so much fowl language

a circus came
to town yesterday
and I’ll be
damned if I can
remember even
one of those
politicians names

In case you misunderstand my sense of humor…this is a fiction story…I’m too lazy to take morning walks —

My habit in the morning is to walk up the hill take a left at the major intersection in the neighborhood, continue to the main drag and then return using the first street offering entry back into the neighborhood. One morning, I decided to head the opposite direction.

As I continued along the street, I saw a man in the distance, playing fetch with his Malamute puppy. I said, “Good morning,’ as I passed and he stopped, looked at me and returned my greeting.

Something in my mind ‘clicked,’ and I stopped, turned back the few steps I’d taken and smiling said, “I know you from somewhere. I’ve seen your face, heard your voice, but can’t recall where from.”

The man pleasantly smiled, responding, “Take your time – I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

It was my turn to smile as it had jus’ dawned on me and I excitedly stated, “You’re Batman.”

We laughed. He continued laughing as he walked up his drive, his walkway and into his house.

Instantly I knew I had it all wrong, as I mumbled, “How could I be so stupid – not Batman, Green Arrow.”

Due to ‘hurt feelings’ there will be no ‘Roaring 20s’ this coming decade.

The two men, bitter rivals and starving, found harmony in a shared loaf of moldering bread. There would be time enough later for hatred.

Sorrow lives there
Icicles weep from soffit
Miserable abode

This is the most Tuesday-feeling Friday, ever…