PRIMER GRAY
Smoke ring in a windstorm
old man with blindfold and cigarette
at the university he had “shown promise”
was called a “diamond in the rough”
but the years have gotten away from him
he pissed away his time
now he waits for the phone to ring
for Gabriel to call and ask if he has one last request
from the beginning desire had been a map without names
never sure where he was or where he was going
change made for the sake of change
point A to point B in a car painted primer gray
he drank too much-slept too much
read too much-chased “easy” too much
never finished the book he had been writing
for the last 24 years
now the Rambler sits on blocks
the manuscript lost somewhere in the attic
he calls himself “invisible man on blue planet”
the events of his life written in disappearing ink
nothing to offer as evidence of having circled the Sun
staring at the autumn sky, chain smoking, sipping tea,
he waits for the angels to raise their rifles
and take him home
***
