Freezing

I’m freezing
after spending an hour
outside, locked out
of the house, socks
on my feet, no keys,
no sense of how to get in
or get by, no more
puttering around waiting

to die or something, can’t quite
say die just yet, my heart

pounding like a song,
a drum song, sticks or beaters
of various sorts, the dancers
lined up and me sitting alone
in a blanket, my regalia
brittle on a hanger by the stove
in my father’s house now

and me in sweats now, socks
on my feet, no coat, this is how
I will be found, memorialized
as a dumbass nondescript old man

who forgot his keys, left the cat
to handle things all alone, left
the words behind to murmur
of his faults and his triumphs
and more —

of his ordinary living
of his ordinary life and his death
on the back porch listening to
a cold wind, the cars, his slowing
frantic breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T