A Classic Hadji Nothingness Poem

Winter in the City

Lately, the downtown
theater is the best ticket
to paradise I've found.

Dad argued with the pastor
the other day.

Mary, the 83 year old tenant
is back in the hospital.

Sister is lonely, she drinks
coffee alone in European cafes
and really, so does everyone else.

I can hear friends laugh
in Tuscan, Texas, Boston,
and down the road. But we
hardly laugh together anymore.

Even if I could travel
where would I go, and what about
responsibilities? Could I go someplace
and leave my umbrella behind?

I really don't want my camera anymore,
it sterilizes life. The strap
on my satchel broke, and I rarely
play guitar.

Mom plays caretaker for children,
and elderly, and rarly has a chance
to talk or even be alone.

Work leaves me too tired to cook
and why cook good food
when it is just me at the table.

A bottle of wine
still tastes better with a friend.

The phone rings mostly to sell
me services and magazines I don't
want, but I buy them anyway.

And central district ice rink
finally opened so
I went to skate, not
realizing people don't wrap
their necks in wool anymore,
mittens keep hands warm
not the touch of a friend
or a lover linking arms
while people just skate,
individually, together but
alone in circles around
the frozen downtown pond.


I need to clean this up I think.
Thoughts, take, leave, change?
More images? More senses?
Love you all,
Hadji