there’s nothing wrong with me
as i hit the snooze button
for the third time
stare at the cobweb on the ceiling fan
wondering where the spider is.
outside i hear mickey’s silverado
start up and head down the street.
it must be seven-thirty-five.
a few hours later i get out of bed
walk over to the window
and draw the shade
another half inch.
i spend the next ten minutes
sitting on the shitter.
i check my email on my android
and play a few pinball games.
“hey boss this is johnson,” i say,
talking into my boss’s android.
“listen, something’s come up,
i won’t be in today…or tomorrow….
actually i won’t be back until thursday.
“there’s nothing wrong with me
so don’t call back
and i’ll see you on thursday.”
i finish my business in the bathroom
and make my way back to bed,
excited about the idea
of doing nothing
for three more days.
this poem is in response to charles bukowski’s oral dissertation on depression
august two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
Love this idea. Well done. I also read some of the poems above and listened to one or two – very interesting phrasing and vocal style, quite captivating really..reminds me of Billy Collins readings.
so glad you enjoyed and thank you very much for the comments and praise. very humbling, really.