Math Words Images Projects
I . . . Where Was I?

I went to see my lover
but she was gone--
no forwarding address.

I went back home,
and the guy who came to the door
had never heard of me.

I looked at the house number, at the
weather-bleached chairs on the porch.
This seemed to be the right place.

I saw my dog on the street.
He growled, hackles raised,
as he circled 'round to sniff my heels.

I spent the night in the park--
thank God it was summer! But the grass
didn't bend beneath my feet.

I lay unsleeping on a bench
waiting for Officer Wilson to roust me,
but he passed three times without pause.

I went to work. Shirley at the front
asked who I'd come to see. I gave my name.
She said she didn't think I had the right address.

I walked right past--she didn't care--
and climbed to find my sixth-floor office
was now a break room. We never had a break room!

I spent more time outside--months, or years,
or decades maybe--I couldn't seem to tell
or find a reason really to care.

I died one autumn afternoon.
They held a funeral for someone else
who'd lived a life more or less a little like mine.

I've signed up for reincarnation.
Haven't heard back yet, but I have hope . . .
my only hope for another chance to pay attention.

Copyright 2003 and 2018, William Alan Bruce Maloney
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