“Neighborhood No. 1”

 

c.2020 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(11-20)

I came here in ‘02
Marriage in collapse
Career teetering like fence rails gone loose
Dangling in the wind
Vibe lost its juice
Working, working
All I could see
Was the yield of long hours locked up at the store
For a wad of currency
Manager title
And the company bible
Rulemaker, rulebreaker
Speeding toward the berm
Right toward oblivion
Unaware
That my feet were on a foundation
Sadly broken
One by one, I lost
Things that filled my heart
Marriage, friends, self-respect
I watched them depart
Through a haze of brew and fatigue
Always certain that working harder
Would relieve my uncertainty
Up late
Always the last to bed
Writing between work shifts
Bobbling like a fish
In the tide
Splinters and broken bones
Saved only by my creative jones
I was alone, but never lonely
Duty kept me occupied
Until at last, the era had passed
Love lost
Work and purpose
My newspaper routine
Real-job responsibilities
For personal gain
Sensible and sane
I could not walk anymore
Lost my place in line
At the grocery store
Sat at home in my trailer
A rural rascal, beard overgrown
Hobbling with canes
No one knew my name
No fool like an old fool
Fumbling with Chinese tools
Nothing fixed
My existence nixed
Stooped amidst the rubble of myself
What I used to be
Facing the cold stare
Of mortality
A brick in my belly
A gnawing sense that the end lay near
If only I wished it here
Crashed and crushed
Visibly nonplussed
Under the bus
Now my journey had ended
Here with other souls befriended
Neighbors, near
Drinking light beer
A group gathered to gape
At the mysteries of modern days
While bonfire flames
Lit the night
Smoking boards gone akimbo
Pop Country on the radio
And conversations of all kinds
This meeting of minds
A blue-collar rant
Over donkeys and elephants
Psychos and sycophants
I was still in my work pants
Shy and slow to join the pool
Alcohol was the fuel
That gave me courage to connect
With this bunch in the boondocks
So I lifted my drink at last
Told a tale from my past
There was silence
The crackle of a broken chair burning
I feared stepping in shit
Yet kept talking
Faces were red
Was it what I said?
The reflection of fire
Lit those eyes ‘round the ring
Someone started to sing
To a familiar tune of backwoods charm
A new friend took my arm
Clinked her bottle against mine
I felt safe inside
For the first time
Bent and busted me
Two canes and my hoodie
Old dog by my side
The self of yonder days surrendered
A pleasant whisper to eternity
Under the stars
Sat out in the yard
No more living in New York
No more trips to Las Vegas
No more courtroom appearances to dissolve my marriages
No more guilt
No more games
No more yearning for fleeting fame
Only my heart remained
Beating tick-tock
Like the crow of a cock
Calling out to the new day
I had found my place
It was understood
When I joined the gang
In my rustic neighborhood

Written on my iPhone SE