Thursday, December 5, 2019

Thing I Have Said (Late for Dinner)


“I need to see you.”

“It’s late, you should stay.”

“How do you like your eggs?”

“So, dinner tomorrow?”

               ***

“What, what’d I say?!”

“No no, that’s not what I meant!”

“I’m sorry, really.”

“So…ideas for dinner?”

               ***

“Geez, what crawled up your ass and died?”

“I was just kidding, seriously.”

“I don’t think I’m the one being unreasonable here.”

“oh fuck.”

“FUCK!”

“I’m not hungry.”

               ***

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“Oh…really.”

“It’s not me, it’s you!”

“Yeah? Well, maybe you won’t miss me, but your family will.”

“By the way, your [mother, father, sister, brother] is crazy.”

“I’m taking the stainless steel frying pan.”

               ***

“Well, what a nice surprise. How long has it been?

I was sorry to hear about your [mother, father, sister, brother].

“Ah jeez, that’s messed up.”

“Did you get a second opinion?”

“Doctors, what do they know; they’re all just guessing!”

“Fine, fine; well, I could complain, but we’d be here all night.”

“If there is anything I can do, anything at all...”

“Tell your family I said “Hello”; I always liked them.”

“Well, gotta go; I’m late for dinner.”



Ken Owen 
Van Niddy Press,  December 2019

Monday, December 2, 2019

Snoring in Japanese


As I lie in bed 
between dreams in 
today’s early morning hours
I could have sworn 
you were snoring in Japanese 

I found this to be a
particularly amazing feat
since I am fairly certain you
do not speak Japanese

Then I realized I had 
no way of knowing 
if it was Japanese or Mandarin 
or Cantonese for that matter

However
your sounds had 
what seemed to me
all the proper inflections of 
an Asian language with its rising and falling
like small gentle waves where 
everything seemed to end 
like a question that I could not answer 
since I did not know the language 

Now wide awake and
listening to the indecipherable 
while studying the lunar landscape of
the bedroom ceiling
I got up to have a glass of water

and upon my return I noticed 
your language of sleep had changed
from a personal dialect to
the sounds of a small purring kitten

and just when I had done 
some preliminary analysis of this new development 
my stomach began to answer you with 
its own language comprised of 
a series of internal sounds generated
most likely
from warm pipes complaining
of cold water

So 
there I was
4:00a.m.
listening to our conversation 
with it’s rhythmic call-and-response 
that neither of us had any control over
and I was disappointed that you were
sleeping through the whole conversation.


Anyway
I just thought you 
should know.


Ken Owen   
Van Niddy Press,  November 2019