7 Stories Below

 

Late yesterday afternoon

they told us 

that an emergency surgery

was required to take place

on the old garage door

for our apartment building

and they apologized in advance

for any inconvenience caused

by the operation to be performed

7 stories below.

The old door is a large 

metal grill of a thing

rusted annually from the sea air 

here near the coast.

We said to each other

Well, I don’t think we 

should hear anything way up here

7 stories above

but bright and early

8:00am

the noise started

as they tried to save the life

of the old garage door 

7 stories below.

Just hammering

then drilling

then sawing

separately

then a symphony

of all those things

all at once

as the skeleton of the building

shouted and moaned with

every            bit        of          noise

from the operating room 

7 stories below.

I thought

this must be what it’s like 

for a brain to experience 

a root canal.

So I decided to leave 

our waiting room

and turn my afternoon walk

into an early morning walk

as I wished the patient 

an easy rehabilitation with its new appendage

and the team of surgeons

a speedy completion to their procedures

with hopes that my afternoon nap

would not be impeded from

the operation being performed

7 stories below.

Ken Owen   July 2023

Van Niddy Press

A Deficit of Impartiality

No one in the courtroom paid much attention to me as I waited to be interviewed for Jury Duty selection. When it was finally my turn, the prosecuting attorney asked if I had any concerns about my ability to remain impartial while reviewing evidence and testimony. 

“To be honest,” I replied, “after hearing a description of the charges and the arguments the attorneys for the defense plan to make, I'm afraid I am already running a deficit of impartiality towards the defendants.”

This caused everyone in the courtroom to turn and see who could make such an exaggerated statement. The Judge raised her gaze from her paperwork, adjusted her glasses, looked me over and said,

 
“Mr. Owen, what did you say you do for a living?”
 
“Well your Honor, I am a retired technology worker, a professional musician, and a self-published poet.” 

“I see,” she replied. “What kind of tech work did you do?”

“ I was a Business Process Analyst.”

“And what instrument do you play?” 

“Drums, your Honor.” 

“I’m guessing you’ve played since you were very young?” 

“Yes Ma’am, much to the chagrin of my parents.” 

She then made the faintest of smiles, and went back to her paperwork.

After a brief pause of attorneys whispering to each other in a hushed conference, the defense attorney said, “Your honor, we’d like to dismiss Mr. Owen and thank him for his time.”

Glad to be relieved from service, it wasn’t until I was half-way home that I realized she never asked me about my poetry.

Ken Owen   July 2023

Van Niddy Press

That Same Old Story

 

Stop me if 
   I’ve told you this before…

You know that story
   the one your friend loves to tell

the one…of the dozens
    they have that you’ve heard

many times 
   over the years

and because you can see
   the joy in their sharing

you listen quietly 
   and act like you are hearing

the story for the 
   first time?

Guess what…

They are thinking

   the same thing 

when you tell your stories

   even though you preface each story with

 
“I’m sure I must have 
   told you this before, but…”

as if that grants you pardon
   for your forgetfulness

and they listen quietly 
   and act like they are hearing

the story for the 
   first time

because now
   at our age

this is the price

   we gladly pay

for the privilege of having friends 

   that know all our stories.

Ken Owen   July 2023
Van Niddy Press

Facing The Wrong Way

You know you are in trouble 
when the only poetry you read 
that you can make any sense of
is your own

a clear sign 

that your focus is all wrong

and you are facing the wrong way

worried about too many things

all internal

and all the while

endlessly searching 

for new inspiration

with no clear idea 

of what you're looking for.

Sometimes I fly over a poem

and gaze down upon it 

like a crow over a corn field

only to see an endless stretch 

of verses reaching to the horizon 

and I immediately realize 

I have nowhere near 

the energy or inspiration required

to begin such a journey

so I slink away

carrying the slightest

short-lived pang of guilt 

wondering if

perhaps

I have just given up 

on the one that may have 

as the gentleman said

made all the difference.

Ken Owen   July 2023

Van Niddy Press