Patience

Patience in my pocket
Jangles like coins
I´m groping around
I´m tossing silver pence.
Patience in Gabriella Cilmi's Sanctuary
Is playing this poetry of running thoughts
Which won't wait to be relayed.

A sign of your daddy's aging
Is his snoring
In the grip of
An early afternoon nap
Loud loud - ER loud- EST noise
Outgrowing outlouding
Blaring loudspeakers of the TV set.

There you go...
Sneakers, hip-hop XXL trainers,
Baggy T-shirts from previous decades
Shabby shorts from Beverly Hills' beaches
In the 90s worn
by a skinny Donna and a muscular David
And others...
Orange, green, yellow, reddish pink
Whichever combination
No shame
This is not a catwalk allure!

You are opening space
For your doggy's leg
To run through cracked pickets
Of prefab houses' balcony fences
Of the SAMENESS
Of clothes lines
Suggestive of stucking in a rut
In a regime dictated by any one of us.

You are giving a portion of time
To your doggy's pooing and peeing
And elated tails' wiggling
Of fleeting happiness!
Turn them free from a leash
Of a whipping dictatorship
Of a hierarchical domination
Of your brain coming first
- Without sexual overtone
More pivotal than doggy's senses
Sniffing and sniffing
Kinds of smell
Hardly ever tackling your nostrils!

You are cruising among decorative bushes
You doggish community
Taking pride in having bibs
From criss to cross
From side to side
From up and down
From corner to corner
Diagonally vertically and horizontally
Drawn with doggys' coolest collars
Designed by a posh spice's pointed nose
By a mouth's dimpled corner
By a coming apposition...
...Victoria Beckham.
Wicked!

Patience is swinging with me
Filling breaks from work
And work from breaks
Stuffing commuting with observation
And observation with conclusions
About this funny race of ours
Of a clever-EST man
Overweight with diploma fat
Hanging on grammatically correct
HIS or HER neck
And belly
And beck
And... making a blunder
Absolutely un-grasp-able
To a chubby bumpkin
running in shoes
Of wits and wisdom
Gathered in berries
of laws of nature
Smashing!

Good night song it is
Indeed
Storm is coming on its tiptoes
To sing me a thundering lullaby
To punctuate my sleeping dose of dreams
To cleanse soporific drug
Splashing from my skin's volcanoes
To put out soothing lava
Pouring out from them
And thus making me wide awake.
Damn!