The Mocking Bird

His back bent in a rigid curve…

His back bent in a rigid curve, fists in cheeks, pushing nubbled
skin toward turned-down eyes, scanning rough-cut pages in a book,
he sits, half-crushed cigarettes and lighter flaming constantly,
flicked to life with drying, hair-flecked hands scorching age away.
He knows the dance, the whirl of life, the skitterings of a clock,
pushing up, then straightening, he crosses to the thermostat,
turns it, hears the click and sits again, elbows denting wood.
An umber flash shrieks and smashes life against the window pane;
His ears are stolen from the page, then return to pondering.

©1979, me

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Author: makingsenseofcomplications

I have an academic background in literature and, separately, science. My career has been in industry in positions of increasing responsibility assisting in the drug development process - one of the most amazing intellectual pursuits of the human mind, among many other amazing intellectual pursuits. I am interested in films, philosophy, history, art, music, science (obviously), literature (also obviously), some video gaming, human behavior, and many other topics. I wish there was more time in every day because we have a world that is full of amazing phenomena that are considered too superficially by too many. Although my first and last names are fictional, I think I believe in all of the stuff you read here, although I retain the right in perpetuity of changing my thoughts about anything written herein.

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