Reststop

Some legacies you can’t live

up ^ to

Others you can’t live -

down -   V

Out Here >  ?

…in Lonely-Ville?

you cut the tie

the knot

between reality

and what got

you here

but then, 

you’re just ‘stopping by’.

For Them…?

This is no reststop

This is where

Their roads stop

This is where

they come to die

... the legends,

the legacies,

and the lies.

V 

Woman In The Brown Coat

The woman in the large brown coat came in today. Her heavy veil of gloom, a constant. She took the same stool she always does, the one beneath the animated Beer sign. She seems to be mesmerized by the ripples on the lake and the boat endlessly bobbing. I wonder if the sign reminds her of a Place? Maybe she grew up on a lake or the family vacationed there. Why else the hypnotic attraction? Sparkling blue water an illusion of shimmering light? Was she happy there? …appears not. But then it may not be the case – in fact she may be desert bred and the water called to her. I speculate, but it doesn’t matter.

Five beers later, with even fewer words spoken, she rises as if her coat were lined with lead, fishes bills from deep in her purse, sets them under the last empty and trundles to the door then out into the glare. No one bids her goodbye or farewell probably sensing it was a waste of time. She is a stranger among strangers…it’s just that some make an effort. She never has. Each to their own.

V

GLORIOUS BOOKMAN

Glorious Bookman

had all the trappings

befitting his name,

but unfortunately

they were ill-gotten

and half rotten

 to begin with,

and the trappings

ended up trapping

and rotting

the man instead.

It happens

when you outspend

overreach

pursuing some need

of greedy necessity.

You never arrive

at the perceived destination.

Never fully receiving

Your preconceived destiny

or self-deceived legacy

A name is just the cover

The rest is

in the book

whether you wrote it,

Or just compiled

a file of 

blank pages

V