My moods come swinging harder
more brutal between the good places
eye fogged anxious days
women who turn me like a card in solitaire
Hours that wait like wounds
and demand confrontation, wine or madness
I still hear Bhagwan and the Sufi’s
still remember Monika and Nirala
I can still see Danny and Chris’ and Rose’s eyes
but here, where my moments are mine
I come down to some line
some deeper pressing reality
Women and wine used to save me from confrontation
but wine can kill me, as it did my mother
and women; women find me less these days
through the filters of age, affluence, and truth
so we come down to it: mood slugging and slogging
aerobics and smiles, sweat and hedonism
balanced against karmic mirrors
like Adelle, the psychedelic pharmacist
and Kathi M., the Jewish-American business woman/wife
and Maria, the waitress
and Lorrie, the aerobics instructor
I can offer no one anything and I go upset
from each meeting where they tell me so.
gallagher
03 oct 83 – Orangetree
— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —
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