I walked up 17th street that night
hardly a light in sight
when I came upon Harpers Air Conditioning,
the factory looked completely dark
until I saw something
through the window
a movement in the dark
a mass
I couldn’t quite figure out
but then
a light clicked on
and I saw him
a great big beastly man
with bulging arms
and the face of an ogre
skipping about
dribbling
lettuce off a sandwich
and foam off a beer
hitting a recliner
and absorbing
the electric glow
of a football game.
A man in the moment
making the most of it
all by himself
no wife, no kids, or woman there to tie him down,
he was perfectly in his element
sweating his ass off
through his underwear
with a grin on his face
having the time of his life.
The wife beater, the beer,
leather, sweat, and potato
chips
hot nights in July
with a summer
that just wouldn’t quit
all his troubles melted away
as he sat there
laughing at the world
grabbing his nuts
and stroking
the remote.
I stayed there for hours
watching the game with him
looking through that window
mesmerized
by the spectacle
of it all
pitch black rooms
darkened hallways
not a care in the world
not a soul in the world
there to bother him
only that TV screen
flickering on and off
on and off
fading into the background
becoming permanent.