I didn’t know there were monkeys
in the maples on the street
until I saw one — at least,
I thought I did — swinging
gently among its branches,
hooting softly at cars below,
first light of morning, no one
but me watching them;

didn’t understand these
marvelous birds — ostriches! —
moving flightless over asphalt
and manicured lawns — rubbed
my eyes and they vanished;

turned back to the living room
and from beyond its thin-paneled walls
I heard — something; a ticking,
a rumbling of drums, promise of
some new awful life or decent living —
then it faded off into a vast nothing
and I was alone in the ordinary;

I said, this is my life now. This
is where I live, having an ordinary life
among full beings
of impossible existence
who fade
into wraiths
and then into nothing;

I poured myself a coffee
with a little two percent milk —
it will do, I guess —
and try to settle in.

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