I Can If I Want Too

Went out tonight, long after dark, after a friend stopped by, pointing out stars to me. Lit up the lantern, soft light of a kerosene lamp, course, the lamp oil used now, in lamps, is much more refined...than used to be. But, still has that fuel oil smell, I long remember. Brings back childhood memories.

I sat in my throne, of 'folding chair', with a brew of 'black as night' coffee, pulled the dark of heaven, round my shoulder's, Gods serene stars, above my crown. No King, was e'er regaled, in greater finery.

In the day, I was sad, that my family never called, but, at night...I came to realize, 'I'm here', abandoned, in the most wonderful way.
I got everything, I ever really wanted. Thought I did, anyway.

I'm free now. I can sit beneath the night sky, with no one to disdain...and my God to talk too. I can roll down the great highway, smoke, if I want too, chuck back 'a few', upchuck, if I do too many. I'm free to 'waste myself' away, in a half conscious bliss...if I want too.

It's not my style, but an option...better than 'apps', I can tell you.

Namaste


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: cosmic moon, google pic