This Poem This Afternoon Poem by RIC BASTASA

this poem
has nothing much to give you

some words
discarded that i
keep again
on this monitor

perhaps garbage
or dust or pieces of
scratch papers,

but somehow
i go on writing,
without any purpose
at all

in mind, just
to let the hours pass
by
the minutes wasted
for having to wait
on something else,
the next scene
another event
of my life
a meeting in
another room
a riding of
a vehicle to the city
and then
wait again for the
students in the
university

i talk much
and write too
little

for hours and hours
until it gets so dark
at the late hour
of the night

and then i go home
drive my car
no talking now
just paying attention
to the road
meeting my face

and the faint sound
of the aircon
of the car until i
arrive on the side
of the house

the gate opens
i turn on the light
and go inside the room
to sleep
on this chilly evening.