Routine
Today, I’ve decided, I won’t turn on the van.
I’ll start and end here in this parking lot.
First order of business: meditation.
The monkey toyed with, I move on to
a rearrangement of my tiny living space.
As a man with few passengers, I will use
the passenger seat for storage,
freeing up more space to swing my arms
in the main compartment.
I rarely swing my arms, but it’s best to be ready.
Then it’s on to the hand-cramping task
of copying many dozen haiku into a notebook.
I shake out my fingers, finish a book,
listen to Miguel Cabrera’s 3000th hit,
crank up the Grateful Dead.
Forty-eight years into whatever this is,
I’ve still figured out very little.
I’ve started over again, alone, with nothing.
For now I’ll lie back and listen to “Peggy-O.”
Later I’ll get a bite to eat from the grocery store.
Then on into another night, another morning.
/ / /
23 April 2022
Pittsfield MA
(NaPoWriMo Day 23)
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