The Bowers Writers House

10 people and
the brick wall was cold
and i sat looking at the empty hole
where a fireplace was permanently stuck
no dry wood was burning, no wet wood either
nothing to steal the chill from our tiny room
no heat or close body warmth and
no hot conversation forming
inside the gray heads or the stranger eyes or
on each cautious lip
whispering into view
soft gossip from an old chin or tongue
rolled onto the large rectangular table
where the student chairs sat squarely
with no visible stain to help identify
a momentary fit of passion, which didn't
exist anyhow or anywhere within sight
there was a nearby shadowed sun room leading
to the grassy rear yard which had no running dog
no dog in fact no cat no caged bird singing no bird
no garden and no gardener bending to the
springtime task of preparing soil or
fondling seed bought during a prior fall sale and
now ready for the one great brown dirt fertility act.
a small kitchen where a crystal bowl mostly full
of jellybeans tempted no one or maybe one
was nearby with a bag of local pretzels
salted & dark and open near the potato chips
no dip no margaritas no strawberry smoothies
the student introductions having been made,
class began with a handout and a reading
of the handout and more handouts and more explanations
and the idea of needing some generic
Viagra to get it up popped into my mind,
but i have a new bicycle saddle which should help.
i heard the teacher introduction explaining
this was to be an introductory study of the
Beat Generation and i knew i would be beaten
when the woman near me said she was stiff from
sitting and at the age of 86, she expected it.
her neighbor said she wasn't stiff and she was
91 and i began to feel nicely stiff like a corpse all made up
in my final box as the few remaining family
members turn away toward their cars, fumbling for a
cigarette or remembering a good place to eat nearby,
while discarded flowers are scattered on the cemetery ground.
i heard a distance fire siren and looked at my watch,
as pictures of a newly-born grandson were handed
around the table for our mutual enjoyment and i thought
you can't beat this, Jack!