it’s that type of weather where i need to start
wearing a jacket in the morning,
but to feel sophisticated,
as that was always a childhood dream of mine,
i make sure that my morning jacket is made
out of wool felt and is soft, too soft, suspiciously soft,
to the touch
i’m an island of complexity,
said the least interesting person in the hotel lobby
trying to get the bellboys attention,
though it wasn’t that sort of hotel,
but rather more of a ratty motel on the side of the highway
that mostly caters to truckers needing a quick
snooze before heading off once again
on the asphalt arteries, drifting,
and the most least interesting person mistakenly thought their needs
deserved attending to,
but the hotel staff and patrons forgot about them entirely
freeze frame, don’t move,
just like that, but maybe fix your face,
or not,
no, it’s fine, i won’t say anything if you don’t,
but maybe we won’t use this photo
for the xmas card?
Fred Aiken Writing 