recovery seems subjective

 last time we spoke i 

had broken my arm

i went back to work part time and crashed out

on week 4. 2 hospital visits later

and it seems i have clogged

my arteries and bent my stent. 

so i took some temp disability to heal.

taking blood thinner and statins

my digestion is still very slow. 

eating oatmeal and raspberries

doesn't seem to help. 

i moved my desk to the right

of the window, put his wicker chest

where i once wrote.  view of

the neighbor's blackout curtains. 

dad's red truck parked in the third spot

directly in front of where grandson 

likes to play. with trucks and tiny pets.

now there's more room to scoot my chair back 

and the view is   clouds piling

 over the bay

in the southwest sky tailgating

each other into an inevitable

howard-franklin crash. 

*

i get the occasional check in from the colleague

taking up my slack, overwhelmed, focused 

on the singular KPI the boss regards.

some of the things i can't help with,

others i just don't wanna 

scour my give a fucks for the procedures. 

the easy ones i give him.

during this recovery i've pressure

washed most of the trailer, except

the screen porch where my on-sabbatical

honey stacks boxes of dishes, cables, pcbs,

various iterations of .03/lb metals

he gleans from the overstuffed shed 

in back. contents pile atop every 

surface. i think of seashells and tides.

alternatively i think of the 1970s sitcom

sanford and son. he plays both roles. i'm 

the neighbor from hell yelling get this shit

off my property. it has not been 

my dream recovery. 

**

in fact, this is the first time i'm feelin

a writing vibe, one where my surroudings

don't matter. overheard conversations 

whining 8 year olds, angry poppas all

become part of the narrative. 

or ignored. 

* 

i suppose it's about how much one 

can take. i could get used to working

a couple hours on, a couple hours off.

but you have to be productive the whole time

wage slave. and no, i donn't think that term

is hyperbolic. in fact, it may be too tame

for what's actually happening in 

late stage capitalism. the part

of the game where  you only

keep rolling  because you still

own baltic avenue and you're just

about to pass GO , collect 200 dollah.

bank errors are rarely in your favor.

massa don't give out fresh food and water

and he charges rent for the shack he's chained

you in. it's not hyperbolic because 

even though you have the appearance of free will

it's not like that, at all 

 if you are trapped

 in a society and want to eat.

++++++/-------

where was i? o yes

in recovery. i'm also quitting smoking

for up to 3 hours at a time. 

i still have 4 to 5 cigs a day.

thought weed would help but it 

doesn't stop the craving for the NIC o tine.

what to do? doc told me i would not

be sexy with a colostomy bag

but how's that different 

from now? it's not an aspiration anyhow

so doc edited the adjective to palatable

which i agree. hence the 50% reduction.

can one have half a colostomy bag?

check up in 2 days. worried as the clouds

loom closer. 

+++

but what about all this

(gesturing broadly to the political landscape

unfolding along this timeline)

it's not like all the shouting

in the nation will make those in charge

stop following their scorpion ways.

they will sting and since we put them 

on our backs for this ride across the river

  if we're dead by time we reach 

the shore i can

 say i told you so. right now

i'm just tryin to keep my head 

above the waterline.  

 

&&&

so i tidy my room. i hadda have a place

to call my own since the boy is here

to stay. i dont really want to kick them out

but i need somewhere none of their stuff 

is allowed, unless i want it there. 

there's one more box i need to purge

to make the collection truly mine

but i've come some ways . 

i scrub the grout in the bathroom

with toilet bowl cleaner 

and a toothbrush. a pale blue stripe

emerges between  tiles, some cracked,

as dirty cigarette grime sloughs off.

i'm counting this as the physical therapy

i didn't do yesterday . rebuild the muscle

so i can go back to work again.

because i'm still in debt and too damn old

to live out of my car like i thought i would 

when i retire. like so many have chosen to do

in these uncertain swirling times. 

 recovery from what the fascists are breaking-

that's gonna be a long road. not sure i'll

get to the end of that journey 

but i kinda promised my son i'd stop

mentioning that i may die soon.

it's kinda disturbing .

funny that i just about did 

and didn't even notice it.

i thought it was

just a fleshwound.