Five Quibblings.... Poem by RIC BASTASA

i

i have to write this matter in a rush
it is seven twenty two in the morning,
it is a bright day like a
sunny side up fried egg,

and i haven't had breakfast yet
it is not a holiday for me
i don't smile, there is no cheering up
pocketed smile, restrained yet trembling hands,

there is work in the office this whole day
busy, busy, busy,

i am on trial, (what i mean is i conduct trials,
slip of the tongue thing, eh)
and tonight i have to teach criminal law
at the law school
with more gaping mouths to feed
knowledge, skill, the capacity to evade the law
later after mastery,
that is it.

ii

i remember the star apple tree at the center of the school
it is shedding off its leaves and one car got hit
by its rotting falling branch: by mere pull of gravity
it has no life force at all to resist
a fall,
there is no desistance here, everything is accepted,
like this freedom too to destroy oneself
or another
negligent being, creature, thing.


iii

the place is muddy and the waters rise
and there is flood everywhere
and what appears before me is a lake
less the swans,

iv

the grasses here die of so much water and
there is no electricity, it follows, it is logical to expect some
short circuits during floods, and the storms
necessarily, strong winds, destroyed electrical poles,
fire,

the rooms are dark and the students are
leaving
i am as usual left alone with some questions
to be back home or have
a drink somewhere else where there is not
much crowd to know me and my
usual quibbling about
loneliness....i am not joking.

v

meanwhile, time runs that fast, like a bullet train,
i fall short of time, but here i am rushing to the
last word of this
poem.

if you agree.i think, it is none of my business.
i agree.