Waking Up Drunk With The Radio On

The right eyelid's blink-
Wink, eclipses stuttering,
Hack, hack, brown

Moon, trailing its
Ambivalent certitude into
Infelicitous non-

Vavoom, (no more dream),
And the something night, sky
Swarthy, clouds a tight

Gray, like a floral print
Maternity gown, also
Trailing void, and

Flapping like a vapid kite.
Too much simile, metaphor? Well,
Pen your own theodicy!

I'm sorry, forgive me,
The alcohol gets me testy.
And consciousness should brim

With the extraordinary.
I should really
Just say it.

There are people
Who are not
Happy, and right now,

They chew their varied
Tendons, vying for the
Silver rein. A zephyr.

And remember when moon
Became eye (first stanza),
And eye became belly

(implied in third, fourth stanzas),
So eye's man becomes
Fetus, and Freud is

Superfluous. For a
Human is awakening, and
At the present

There is no inclusive idiom,
Though, also, no secular
Explanation. But.the radio

Is on. And the human
Is choking on a
Love song. Damn,

Why ever turn the
Radio on? On the table,
Cigarettes, Monk disc (liking

music that flexes the five
accepted senses and then some.),
Coca Cola can, several paint

Brushes, tea cup saying
Something clever, and multi-
Colored sculpture.

The human's reaching for
The merlot bottle. And the
Night becomes a

Cheap love song.
But in the background,
The disc jockey says

He's happy, be happy.
He must know
That such things

Sometimes help.

Copyright © 2000 Kemal Faruquee.

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