ode to the mundane, or 47th day of unemployment

February 4, 2014

how wonderful the mundane

is true bliss tedium uninterrupted?

a place where there is…

no office to attend

no bank to offend

no Coffee Club to fund

no inane

water cooler banter to deflect

and certainly…

no evil Apple laptop computer

glaring at you

in whitewashed contempt

daring you to inundate

the Corporate Elite

with an intrusive

tho’ artfully crafted

Electronic Mail epistle

that defines our corporate role

as global environmental stewards

as ecological shepherds:

defenders of the rainforest

and the Great Redwoods

and the Canyonlands

and the endangered Panthers

and the damned owls…

You think of that early in the morning

on the forty seventh day

of your unemployed citizen

status

as you walk outside

in the Florida Everglades heat

an hour before sunup

you think of it still

as you feed the cats their mix

of Purina and powdered milk

out by the edge of the garage

behind the Subaru

before you totter to the end of the drive

in your abysmal brown bathrobe

the day’s outgoing mail in hand

all set

to feed the next Visa payment

into the hungry box

to stave off delinquency

to save the judgments

and phone calls from

the heavy-handed collectors

for another day

“thieving bastards” you say out loud

to the lady who walks her Chihuahua

by your place every morning

at six AM

she glares at you —

then rushes past

and you go on to retrieve

the Pennysaver

from a puddle in the street