Point W

Sluggish from the inertia of
waking up in the middle of a dream,
I put on some clothes, brushed my teeth
and drove to the flea market
few towns over,

it was opening weekend.

Bi-polar New England Spring 
had made up its mind for the moment
to be in the mid-fifties with
a sunless sky, grey, as if the 
god of the hunt stretched a wolf's 
pelt across it

the dealers were sprawled out,
like merchants of old,
perched on their tables, laid
out like gold coins, and in
cardboard boxes beneath 
i found the
attics of addicts, the collections of
collectors and the hoards of hoarders

each individual item eyed me, like an 
orphan, "take me home, take me home",
i had only a few dollars to negotiate
the adoption fees of a few
choice wards, the others would have
to wait for another Mr, Warbucks
to pass their way.

I didn't really come for them anyway,
as strange as it may seem.
I don't go to flea markets with the
primary objective of buying
things, I go for the mysteries

like consider this:
in the third row, there was a non-descript
hispanic man making sale pitches in broken, heavily
accented english for woman's shoes,
he was surrounded on all sides by towers of boxes
of designer women's heels, pumps et cetera

i can't help but wonder, 
"how did he come to be here today?"

the mind begins to speculate

maybe on weekends he likes to become a young
mamacita, and this is a shoe collection of hers

maybe he is going through a bitter divorce, and
his wife had a penchant for designer shoes and he is
vending the collection as a form of vengeance

maybe he is a sly criminal, who had the shoes fall into
his hands via less than lawful means, and he is here
to fence his wares to an unsuspecting public

whatever the path that led him here, I can tell you
one thing

he never excepted it

and i will never expect the places my path will take me
in the future, and neither will

you, you, you or you

there was a plump woman the next row over peddling trinkets from
wicca and native american shamanism. She may have expected to 
be a veterinarian, nursing sick cats and dogs back to health

and next to her was a man with the beard of Gandalf the Grey
dealing rusted, ancient power tools and odd and ends bolts, screws
and nuts. He may of expected, at one point or another, to be an
astronaut, placing his very human footprint on the soil of something
extraterrestrial

and now here they are

it only goes to show that you should never expect anything, 
envisioning a destination rarely means you'll reach it, you're 
bound to get sidetracked or turn left at a crossroads and wander
through the forest until you come out someplace that is beyond
your imagination's current capacity

and that is the most beautiful thing about life, in my opinion,
the mystery of how someone departing point A for point B comes to 
find himself at Point W instead.

Reviews

[princesspoet]

and yes you should expect things..the bible says to ask for your pleasures..God rewards his good servants with what they want and their dreams...

[princesspoet]

either that or someone disobeys God enough he removes a good job...had he only listened to summer advice it was coming he could have kept it..in my faith it says ask him and he gives it to you...maybe you are being naughty and that is why? ever consider that? maybe to much rubbing breasts and ambrosia and false twitter accounts is why no destination is being reached..