the morning routineA Poem by J. Randall Doddthe
warmth of my cushiony pillow, the scent of week-old downy; replaced by
the cool comfort and amorous smells of my beloved's vacant claim. moist,
caressing, manicured fingers slide their way down my spine; from back to
back-side, a
loving squeeze lets me know that it's now six o'clock. i
grunt my disdain for this daily ritual (it
seems to be getting earlier and earlier), this waking from peaceful sleep. i
clumsily roll out of bed. my angel of
the morn waits for me to gain my land-legs again, and
greets me with a kiss … then immediately reminds, "brush
your teeth," followed swiftly by, "and
oh, don't forget to rinse with mouthwash." i
stumble to the sink and try to wipe away the morning fog, looking
in the mirror to make sure god didn't change anything while i was
dreaming. the
sweet taste of aquafresh, the gum-numbing hum of my oral-b electric tooth
brush; trailed
by the painful cleansing of listerine. i
mentally check off a task on my imaginary honey-do list (the
real one's magnetically pinned to the refrigerator door), first task of the day … complete.
i
then perform the job nature's been calling for since i awoke, playfully
trying to beat my previous record for the most amounts of bubbles in a toilet bowl
at
one time (573, to be exact), take a quick note of today's tally (552), compare
(21 short), then flush; maybe tomorrow. i
turn on the water to the shower, test for proper temperature, and step in. i
love the feeling of hard water flowing softly down my body in the early hours
of the day. the
scent of lathered irish spring, the tingle of shampooed selsun on my scalp; then
icicles are spit from the shower-head, shocking me to curse. damn it
to hell! she
used all the hot water-- again. © 2010 J. Randall DoddReviews
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2 Reviews Added on May 5, 2010 Last Updated on May 7, 2010 AuthorJ. Randall DoddParagould , ARAboutAutomotive parts guy, poet laureate of Paragould, Arkansas🤘 more..Writing
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