I feel blood pressure spike as I open my voip phone dashboard

no voicemail

the sweetest result

I check email on Mondays

myalgic encephalomyelitis

I save energy from late morning monday to early morning Monday

to be able to do it again next week

occasional weeks off in

between for covid relapses

dreading it from Saturday nights on

brace myself for surprises

for incessantly unreciprocated efforts at thoroughness, grace, aid, kindness

fear the weeks of

sleeping only daytime

forced awakening late sunday nights

which makes the ticking toward eight ey em

the surprises

the unkindnesses

all the more like blood drops from a knife

family estrangement disappears in dreams

being awake for predawn privileges

public television yoga

senior fitness for my young body

the agony of the sneaking

on mondays

still cant watch my favorite program

from my ex employer sponsoring it

their logo of doctor-run CEOs and engineers who broke my endocrine system

emblazoned in the reflections of my eyes

if you took a picture

there the marketing would be

if I watched

like music

– or phones that never ring with anyone who loves –

holds too many pathways

in the heartbrain

silence protects from melodies of grief

the wife of the stranger who helps pick up my returnable flooring

sits on my original hardwoods, middle of walmart boxes in disarray

open

unopened

empty

full

filler spilling out

half-assembled furniture

it’s so peaceful in here

she says

the first who’s come here and been present

to this psychic effort

namaste, I think

I hear homelessness

in her compliment

takes one to know one, for sure

or maybe she lives by a transformer

and feels her cells quiet in this unwifi’d place

~~~~

if whobodies* called, how thrilled I’d be

but never they do

it’s always just me

*ref. Whobody There by Ann and Charles Morse