Poem 178

Someone having a very bad day on a beautiful day, going through hell on a hell of a (lovely) day when the weather steadfastly refuses to match their mood and the guy-next-door’s vocal enjoyment of it is doing this person’s head in …  sunshine annoyingly insists that this too shall pass …

( I like the way the crumbs in forearms paints the picture of being slumped over the kitchen table, head in hands as light floods the room, making every ordinary thing radiate energy … )

Hell Of A Day

Come back to the sunny kitchen of despair
the morning's on a bloody rampage
and if you don't want to carry the spears
then just lay low

you can hear the neighbour out there
egging it on:
                 it's a hell of a
                 it really is a hell of a day
                 blue as

you've tried ringing him up
to lure him back inside
but out he pops again:
                  no one there
                  not to worry means more time for me in the
                  yep it sure is a

and it is
a thousand cubic feet of sunlight and a pane of glass
making an antique out of the whole kitchen
crumbs from some breakfast impacting in your forearms
orange plastic condiments
close to blasting off
what's that you're mumbling 
                                                    that you just want to be left
to die?

well

permission denied