Tom Blessing

reality therapy charley's out drinking with the boys he hardly ever comes home for dinner anymore he's out drinking, but there are no boys there's just the whiskey and the therapist asks so, charley, what do you want charley knows what he wants he wants another whiskey but that is not the answer that this man wants so he replys, to be happy and the therapist nods and says and is what you're doing getting you what you want and charley knows it is but he looks at this hands and smiles a little smile, no then why do you do it because..., but there is no because it has become the routine of his life the rise and fall of the glass his meditation, his mantra but that's ok maybe it's time to leave, go out west, sit on the beach with his brown bag and bottle watch the waves crash against the shore the therapist has asked him an unheard question and waits his wife is waiting at home half a bottle waits in the car this is his choice, his reality so he stretchs, smiles at the therapist gets up and goes to the door i won't be back next week going to oregon, see my sister *********************************************************** saturday morning at the soumi restaurant soumi restaurant odor of pasties and pannakakus baking in the ovens smoke and "yah, you betcha's" fill the dining room i am a stranger here order hot tea pancakes and ham if it wasn't for the menu "pannakaku, nisu toast, pasty" if it wasn't for the "holy wah"s the scandanavian tinged accents this could be anywhere in america outside the fog is lifting from the ship canal to the north the ruins of the ripley smelter slowly reveal themselves "he took a cheesy shot" "yah, we drove dah swamp yestadey, eh" it is bow season but deer are not safe this morning the fog hides cars and road kill becomes a banquet for the ravens hunter talk work talk i sit here left hand warming on the mug pen to paper words rise steam rises lifting the early fog here in the soumi restaurant houghton michigan end of the century america

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