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I awakened once at 03:29, felt
that the morning air was too
early and too cold. Far better
to resist the deep beginnings
of bathroom feelings deep
down inside, unless my
prostate dictates otherwise.

I had been awakened at 03:29
several times before;  like a
permanent thorn in my sleep

Memories of that strange night of
1984 returned. I mumbled a quick
prayer against the evils of the
night to ward off whatever.

Bathroom thoughts ensued. But
I turned over anyway. Next thing
I knew it was 06:05. I could see
a dim light on in the kitchen.

She was up and awake. I was up
and not awake. I didn’t hear a
thing. Time for my from-sleep-to-
barely-moving ritual.

One look at my tongue and it was
clear the aged garlic supplement
had to go. My tongue was a map
of some uncharted region with
green highlights.

I ran the water. Yes, it was an
instantaneous reminder. I turned
the water off. Went and I’m back.

Then some eye drops, toothpaste,
and a quick mustache comb. Next,
socks, slippers, and a bathrobe.

I think the slippers were on sale
because they grow on their own.
We both bought the only size
slippers that would fit. Just snug;
next size down was too small.
Now I need socks or else they
park and I go off without them.

I opened the cabinet near the
sink. It’s filled with my backup
coffee creamer, vitamins, and
supplements. It is “my” coffee
creamer, because my love
wouldn’t use the powdered
stuff. I find it not too chemical
rich for me as a backup; half
and half is my first choice.
Then again, sometimes I just
like the powdered stuff!

I wasn’t even awake enough to
make a coffee or tea decision.
I poured 2 ounces of health juice
that I like (but probably doesn’t
do a thing) and chugged it.

Then, I reached for my vitamin
case. The one with SMTWTFS.
M and T were empty. It must be

Categories: Poetry

Tagged as:


Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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