It’s been 6 hours now
no electric
so calm
almost like things were meant to be
no internet noise
no TV selling me stuff
just the vultures overhead
keepin’ watch
and the always wind
a pleasant roar
up my unders
as I sit here in the hammock.
Reminds me of when
I was a kid
newspaper in hand
cleaning the kerosene lamps
one by one
while dreaming of African adventures
or building a battery powered radio
of my own.
Almost heaven. Almost.
Or the garden of Eden
except
I’ve got mangoes here
no apples
and no worries
of a god
I’ve arm wrestled to death long ago
many drunken nights ago.
Time for a warm beer.
They aren’t so bad
said my beloved Hrabal
rubbing his bald head
years ago in some other paradise.
Not so bad.
Better a warm beer than
a cold German woman.
My beer is gone.
So too heaven.
The hydro’s back on.
The man has got his act together
and in the kitchen
murder is taking place
as the blender roars.
Damn.
I wish some people
had a plug I could pull out.
