The Shower Drain

I have been standing in the shower the last
Fifteen minutes, watching the water spin its way
Down the drain.
I have not washed my body.
I have not washed my hair.
I am just standing, my chin rested on my chest,
Watching the drain.
As an object in of itself,
It is fairly simple:
A round metal disc with holes.
But there is something about it--
Something about the way the water spins
Counter-clockwise around it,
Something about the seamlessness of this
That attracts my attention.
The water goes down the drain
And into the pipes.
The pipes lead to the water treatment facility
To get separated from the waste.
And then again, it will come out of the faucet
Here, and land on my skin.
This drain, this little metal disc,
Has become my entire world,
And the water I feel on my skin,
The water that will roll of my skin and empty into the drain,
Is the divine blessing that gives my world
Its meaning.

Car

It moves with all the temerity of a raging beast.
Its heart of steel pumps fire,
Each beat an explosion.
Its headlights, bold and alert,
Glare with disdain at any obstacle in the road ahead.
And the tires, with ambitious lust,
Enjoy their endless caress of the road.
This hulking beast longs to drive all night,
But alas, there is a higher power behind the wheel.
Against its will, the blinker is turned on at the next exit,
And the beast is quieted with the turning of a key.

Fantasy

Silently, all night, the young man fought
To reclaim his own mind.
The wine bottle, voluptuous on the nightstand,
Called out to him, begging to taste his kiss.
The bag of marijuana in his desk
Clung to his memory like the little red hairs
On the aromatic buds.
The cell phone, with all the names
Of friends who might be strangers
And strangers who might be friends
Sat next to him on his bed.
He dare not touch.
Instead, he took up a pen
And waited until the sun rose
To begin again.

Magic

Perhaps some fool could comprehend this woman,
But certainly not I.
The harder I try, the more common sense
Seems illusory, and magic and fantasy
Completely real.
Yes, she has cast a spell
And only she can free me.
Until then, I have no will of my own.
Like a diamond ground to dust,
It is scattered by the wind
That flows from her magic eyes.