Validation

(07-17-08)
it’s raining and I thought it would
be nice to meditate and listen,
except the rain is too light to hear now.
I only hear the water shooting
out from my neighbor’s gutter—
it must be clogged. because it’s not trickling
out the bottom end,
but descending from the roof, splattering
into the yard that no longer has grass,
only mud with a dent in the middle
where the water hits.

a dog—it must be two blocks away—
barks in triplets
the hollow echo bark of distance.

and here I am,
not sitting tall like I should be with a Pilates neutral spine
but with the slump of defeat
on my lumbar
alone.

no amount of my calling, my willing,
can lift your busy eyes over to the blinking light,
negate your call screening instinct,
and wiggle your thumb in between
to spring pop open your phone.

and into the mouth piece
—like a fix—
I’ll hear your voice breathe—Raaach…..hey.
and every cell in my body will descend from anxiety
and back into _____________________.


honey, just pick up the phone.