Thursday, July 1, 2010

Chet Baker

You don't have to be out of bed until seven, but the day starts at one.  The phone rings.
The train whistle blows and the person on the other side rambles on, seeking something you are not going to give them.
They relinquish, but you lie awake now.  You feel dread.  Guilt stares at you from the open closet.
The sun is up too soon.
Coffee and exhaustion.
Work
grief.  Double-cross.  Backstab.  Jitters.
Worthless, life-draining meetings.  You dip out late.
Traffic.  Construction.  Rain and fog.
Gym.
Home.
Your wife calls you a dick.  Bleary-eyed commitments. 
Interruptions interrupt your other interruptions.
Sunset.  Darkness.  Quiet house. 
You did it.  
You wore the scoundrels out.
You put on Chet Baker like you pull a pin from a grenade and a trumpet goes off like a soft, silk pillow in your head.  
Reprieve. 
 Thank you.

2 comments:

  1. Great horn player...and a great singer as well...too bad he met such a tragic end.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sounds to me like The American Dream. Working full time to support and raise a family. Been there, done that, glad I'm not there anymore. Hang in there, your turn will come.

    ReplyDelete

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