Living On Fourteen

Remember two Sundays ago, when I said I slept in like a darted rhino?
Well, I did it again today.
And after the kind of week I have had, I feel not one shred of guilt about my current state of weekend hibernation!
So it is that I am hereby declaring this day to be yet another Poem In Your Pocket Day!
I wrote this one based upon the profound realization that I live on the top floor of a 14-storey apartment building.
It is aptly entitled…

Living on Fourteen

I am convinced of it.
Something adrift in communal laundry-room air
spawns the philosopher / political strategist / polemicist
in folks that are elsewhere, none of the above.

Today, two graying hens, churning more froth
than a chorusline of Maytag agitators
reminded me that in this room
we know everything.

Religion, Louise, has always been a primitive response
to the deeper, intrinsic need for superstition in mankind.
I thoroughly agree, Myrtle, and I am exceedingly glad
that both propensities have gone the way of the dinosaur.

My basket of warm towels in tow, I faintly smiled
and entered the elevator for my minute of ascent.
Reaching my own floor, I stepped out and, still smiling,
walked the length of what is really the thirteenth.

© Ciprianowords Inc. 2006

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