Thursday, September 6, 2007

REALITY THERAPY


Discovering my job
has become more important
than my family .

Panning the whole day
on the way into work,
lining up every minute of it,
only to see the boss
waiting for me
with a piece of paper in his hand
as I walk in the door.

Seeing my son bored
by something that really interests me.

My brother wants to put mom
in a nursing home,
and my sister doesn’t
and I’m caught in the middle,
and I’m the only one who has taken care of mom
for the past four years
since she had her stroke.

Finding out I never really knew
my dad till after he died.

Couldn’t wait till the talk was over to
complain about it,
only to hear that everybody liked it.

Going to bed on the night
after a funeral
with one less person in the house.

Trying to make a right turn
out of my driveway,
but nobody will let me out.

Finally somebody slows down
and waves for me to pull out
into traffic in front of him.

Finding myself a few seconds later
speeding up to stop somebody else
who is trying to make a right turn
out of their driveway
just as I was.

Looking in the mirror to see
if the person in the car behind me
just saw what I did.



© Andrew Costello, Listenings, 1980

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