Fool’s Odyssey 5

Fool's Odyssey

To read Fool’s Odyssey from the beginning, click here.

Chapter One: April Fool’s Day (Continued)

Previously: Searching for “something,” the Fool flew to England.

The train came.

And I went.

Flash–darkness–flash–darkness–

All things are wearisome;

man is not able to tell. 

Flash–darkness–flash–darkness–

The eye is not satisfied with seeing,

nor the ear filled with hearing. 

Flash–darkness–flash–darkness–

All things are wearisome.

Flash–darkness–flash–

…with seeing–

darkness–

…with hearing–

flash–

…man is not able to–

Cease.

Victoria Station.

 

I walked out into the slick, cobbly, wayward night,

walking—pad, pad, pad, pad,

past stone lions and bookshelf chimneys.

Walking—pad, pad, pad, pad.

Oh, it’s grey and it’s cold, and the living world

has gone beneath the ground

or found a little ball of sleep

to chase down the quiet corridor of night.

Walking–pad, pad, pad, pad,

pad, pad, pad, pad

pad, pad–

Cease.

 

There, that hotel. I’ll stay there and call it,

“Home for the night,”

and send all my postcards from there, saying,

“Greetings from…”

 

Chippy-toothed, mustachioed, little,

pudgy little Mrs. Hussey gave me the key

after looking out the window at me

for ten minutes,

while I tried not to look like I was

looking at her

looking at me.

She gave me the key

and I was

home.

Or

hemi-

semi-

demi-

home,

at any rate.

 

I paid and climbed the

nine

flights

of

stairs–

a maze of

halls of

crazy balls of

sleep.

 

What?

Past doors and

walls and

floors and

halls and

What?

Wait, there’s my door

with its own little

dear little

room inside.

What?

With its own little

dear little

bed.

 

Sleep.

What?

 

All things are wearisome…

The eye is not filled with…

Sleep.

 

What?

Where am I?

 

Who am I?

 

All things are wearisome,

man is not able to…

Sleep.

 

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick…

Forever passed.

And then suddenly a voice:

“Come unto me!” 

 

What?

 

Forever passed again.

But then I fell

and was feathered like a sloop

upon the ocean’s back,

and draped upon the limbs

of laughing, earthy, willowed hills,

a child of fortune,

an emerald sleeve,

with my shining, glancing armour

and my velveteen ducky-down steed.

Asleep forever

for an hour or two.

To read Fool’s Odyssey 6, click here.

About mitchteemley

Writer, Filmmaker, Humorist, Thinker-about-stuffer
This entry was posted in Culture, Fool's Odyssey, Memoir, Poetry, Religion/Faith, Story Power and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to Fool’s Odyssey 5

  1. theancients says:

    Love it!
    I’m also inspired to be more mindful of my experiences when I travel [I thought I was; but reading your recount, has upped the ante so to speak].

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Maremma Gee says:

    This is a very interesting approach to a story…curious to follow along.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. oneta hayes says:

    Love this – Its imagery, its form, its content. It seems thought that his forever sleep might be more than an hour to two. But perhaps that is forever on a thousand year day, who knows. I will await your telling me more.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Pingback: Fool’s Odyssey 4 | Mitch Teemley

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