Quiet Shouts in Pajamas

2024.08.21

Good morning that wonderful way.

Oh, the keys! Sweet keys of success.

The push and the press of the keyboard's best.

Morning's undress and dress brush teeth and hair and comb and schedules and appointments and meet clocks and appointed people at appointed times.

But the keys... my choice, every morning.
Over all-that nearly a heart attack or many more than that.

But, still, be still, the keys.

And what of it? Sometimes a word or two on Abe. At times on the birds.

A bluejay wants center stage.

Always.
Always a look at me.

A bluejay is a crow still in its pajamas.
Left the murder, stayed in bed tired of the politics of nine to five.

Not an introvert, just knows better ways for itself then to go around with everybody else.

A joyful mob is still mob.

Dress it how you will, a murder is still a murder, crows flying high or premeditated cowardice.

Sometimes the best thing to do with a day is to stay in your pajamas and greet the day with quiet shouts from your statement of solidarity.

Sometimes comfort out loud is the greatest comfort, the greatest reason to be proud. A way to show a new kind of beautiful, a loud look at me in pajamas all day beautiful blue jay, coffee in the pot, maybe some pot, definitely a daydream or two, sure to get you through another day.

At least give it something else to think about while the politics of murder shout all around in group black suits full of old cawing magic that dropped beautiful back at home with slept in pajamas full of a lost chance at daydreams.