the platitudes of willful resemblance

Waiting at the music school my son attends for him to finish an hour and a half of lessons. There is nothing to do except scan Facebook, Twitter, and search around for news of the coming apocalypse (there is one isn’t there? There is always one coming down the pipe.). But, the coffee never lasts long enough and there isn’t entertainment going on in the waiting area of the school for any length of time – though this time I get to restring a guitar and make an unintentional dollar.

As noted above – I’m on twitter now – I am officially a twit or one who twits or whatever. Follow me or not  – @JhonZBaker  – I’ll not be offended if you do not or cannot or will not.

I refuse to be offended personally by anything – because no one fucking cares.

and outside it’s storming

temporary black out

and the keys on this machine hesitate

and stop momentarily.

my heart jumps as I am in the middle of a poem

and will be left sitting in the dark

with only drink and silence

and no poem

but the lights flutter and return

and the machine hums again

scenting the room with ozone

it’s January in Chicago

and raining, with intermittent thunder

and lightening keeping the cats awake