Sunday 27 November 2016

When The Day Ends

I stumble through the door,
Shoes come off helter skelter
then land all forlorn on the floor.

Forlorn.
That's me.

Or perhaps like my synapses,
all wrung dry,
exhausted and frayed around the edges.

But, I sometimes believe in cliches.
Just the one, really,
about clouds having silver linings.
Sometimes I'm kinda silly.

My silver-lined cumulus appears in the P.M.,
Mondays to Fridays,
my personal rehabilitation programme,
yet so simple to play:

7:10 (check)
food plated (check)
couch (check)
TV remote magically leaps into hand - just like how Luke does it with the Force when he's hung upside down in the wampa's icy suite (check).

Then it happens.
In a blaze of glory...

the opening credits
swaddled in the melodic moans of
trumpet
cornet
flugel horn
piano (thank you, Pollard's Trumpet Blog)...

... and I embrace a state of conscious narcolepsy
with all of me.

Everything ceases to be
as the mind is anesthetised,
into a willing suspension of disbelief (my man, Coleridge!)
where the idiotic becomes compelling melodrama
of a day in the lives on Coronation Street.

25 minutes and then it's done,
disbelief flies out the window
reality suddenly weighs a tonne,
and my head is no longer hollow.

As the cloud dissipates,
I'm left wishing
there was a Rovers Return down the street where I live.

Image: "Coronation Street' Spoilers: Here's Who'll To Die ... - Huffington Post UK." 2016. 27 Nov. 2016 <http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/coronation-street-spoilers-death maria_uk_57aaf020e4b03759dfef97cd>