Where the impressions are so vivid
beliefs are etched in your mind.
Summer 1991, the sweltering heat
forced the king crabs to seek refuge
in the kettles. Where the colors singe
the eye. A technicolor mosaic to the sleep.
Sunrises on any morning alive in the
free world of man Then the alarm wakes
you from a sound, tranquil rest,
an irritating warning to start the day.
The perfect dawn fades, as you enter the
bathroom to relieve yourself of the night's
water retention. The 40 hour carnival
is trespassed by dream castles in the mind.
Enter number crunching office fortress.
Thoughts of nightly release invade your
working moments. You are sleep walking
until your head hits the desk. Sleeping
through lunch until the time clock
sounds your freedom from the 9 to 5 chains.
The scent of magnolias blossoms on the lane
smell more intense somehow. Sun brighter,
heat almost scorching. The oxygen seems to be
on fire. Colors of the traffic signal burn
the retina. In the haze of sleep, your house
comes into view. Then you wake to hear,
Otis Redding's "Sittin' On The Dock Of the Bay."
Timothy Michael DiVito c1994
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