Ordinary Times

Clay Tile "Happy Person Driving a Car" 2011

Clay Tile
“Happy Person Driving a Car”
2011

An ordinary day is the best kind of day to me.

Monotony

There’s nothing like falling asleep,
the soles of your feet, heel to toe,
a backrest for the cat
who has no idea of settling you,
but she does

Unless it’s like the dragonfly
perching on your table
mouth full of half-eaten butterfly,
finishing the meal
thoroughly cleaning up
in no hurry
(with the same motions
as the cat might use)
suddenly shooting away
leaving pale yellow wings
to flutter to the ground

Unless it’s like the well-sewn seam
completing the pillow
canvas duck, hard-wearing
you are making for your son’s new sofa
Maybe he will get a cat, too

Unless it’s like the turn of the key
in the lock of your own door
just before you step inside
no longer coming home but being home
And of course there is the cat
nails clicking on the hallway floor

Unless it’s like the thunderstorm in the morning
that woke you up
Unless it’s like the pink wool sweater
you’re wearing for the first time
Unless it’s like the cat
clawing at the cardboard box
you’re about to put in the trash

There’s nothing like any of it
and yet somehow
there seems to be
so much like it,
every day, all day –
all over the place
there is nothing else
as far as you look
I don’t wonder
that so many
complain of monotony
But
it seems to me
they’ve missed the point

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