Ritualo De Lo Habitual Poem by michael pacholski

Ritualo De Lo Habitual



I’m not sure why I comb my hair
the same way each time
adding two equal drops and a certain swoosh
of the palm of the hand to the side
before catching the morning bus

I don’t know why I dust
with four swirling motions and a double-folded napkin
the ferns and fronds hanging
just so in the sun
each Saturday at 1 p.m.
right after a pbj and banana lunch
and just before
the rest of the day and the life slides by

Not long ago I kissed the rosary
before I had set out the victuals
before breaking bread
at the lonely table in the corner by the thirsty cactus
I kissed it out-of-turn
the wrong hour the wrong time
I did so
just that once
in a brief flash
of feeling alive
lucky to be here
on top of the world
when suddenly
my lips were simply there
wanting only to kiss

The love was uncommon
The joy was dazzling

and it went away
The sky grew stern
The sky had seen me break the ritual
and I knelt down in an outpour
with beads falling and scattering to the four corners
as I muttered a prayer
combed back my hair
and picked the carpet clean

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Michael Pacholski 30 July 2007

I haven't listened to Jane's in a long time. I know what you're talking about though. The title just rolls off better than 'Rituals And Habits' which sounds like a Nature special.

0 0 Reply
Gregory Collins 30 July 2007

do you like janes addiction?

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success