What of the Life You Supposed?

The moon comes up to remind
you of timeless journeys
giant leaps, promises of more
a screen door in Albuquerque
the motel porch in Kingman
shadows, endless voices
picnics on mountains with no names
But the road doesn’t always smooth out
no matter the shocks on the limo
the view, the catch of the day
Sometimes, you wonder where
Susan went, or Elmer
You suppose he’s still at OTB
in Troy or Albany
Wife perfect as they get
No qualms unless you
can’t get over yourself
Life chugs along, a breath
at a time, and rolls over
the same bumps
you sometimes like to avoid
simply reflect upon or
go mad, tear up the lawn
get on the roof and bark
set the house on fire
or crack jokes on the phone
with an old friend who knows
Three-nineteen A.M snaps you awake
but you’re smart enough
to keep some change
pasted in the right side
of your brain and two cups
of coffee at dawn, a little silence
Don’t want to talk
because soon, say thirty-eight
minutes or so, you’ll feel
life take hold, settle in
for another taste of that pie
sitting on the shelf
you built for it.