A couple of years back I envisioned and began to put together a series of works. They were to be placed in a 'chapbook' titled - "The Cafe` - Life As We Live It." All of it's snippets were to be life-themed and revolved around going to a downtown cafe and being part of 'life' as I found it. Things don't always go as 'planned'.
"The Cafe` - Life As We Live It"
”Sanity…”
We have our moments
our perceptions
of our realities…
minute by minute.
I looked up from the page. “What is it about “Sanity…” you don’t understand Dave?” I asked as I set my mug down.
I sat still, listening. “Well, you have a point.” “But, man… that IS the same point I’m trying to MAKE!” “Ok…ok, I get your drift… clarity… it IS how we ‘see’ things I guess.” “So what IS ‘reality’ Dave?”
I listened, thought, and waited a bit. “But the concept?” or perhaps, “It’s finality?” - a quizzical look.
Nothing still… I leaned toward him, “Well, I felt it was ‘relevant’, I mean damn, Dave… it always depends on perceptions doesn’t it???”
I reached for my mug… damn, barely any dregs… “Mary?” I looked around. She was over by an empty table, wiping it down. “Mary, we need some more coffee please.”
She looked up, paused and then said, “Just be a sec hon” softly.
She came up… filled my cup. I motioned toward Dave’s.
She looked a sec, reached and took his, set it on her tray, and placed a fresh mug on the table. Then she smiled, turned and walked away. I lifted mine…ahhh great coffee here.
”Excuse me, sir?” I looked up. “Sir, do you mind if I take that chair?”
"Wha... Pardon me?" The shadows perceptibly changed, my focus just - sharpened. The kid might have been eighteen, on a good day.
"The empty chair... We need another chair for our table.” I looked him in the eyes, “Nah, it’s cool… its ok " go ahead…” and he did… and Dave faded back into my memories.
I twisted the pen's top and put it in my shirt pocket - then looked down at my open journal ~ Dave never gets older, after all these years - he's just always... Dave.
”Sanity…”
We have our moments
our perceptions
of our realities…
minute by minute.
At times mine may intersect
with yours
and yours with mine
and sometimes they don’t.
Chris