Late Night Garage Duty

John Grey is an Australian poet and a US resident. His works have been published in Sheepshead Review, Stand, Poetry Salzburg Review and Hollins Critic. John Grey's latest books, 'Leaves On Pages' 'Memory Outside The Head' and 'Guest Of Myself' are available through Amazon. His work is being featured in upcoming issues of Ellipsis, Blueline and International Poetry Review.

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House lights are out,

but not the garage’s solitary bulb.

Your day has still not ended.

Nor has the dim glow.

Despite the hour, you’re the kind

who has to finish what they started.

A greasy radio plays golden oldies.

The calendar on the wall is twenty years out of date.

And the lawnmower is laid upside down

like a corpse in a forensic lab.

Its parts are scattered across the oil-stained concrete.

You bring to the party

your favorite old coffee can full of

bolts and screws and washers.

It’s close to midnight

yet you’re still trying to jam

metal into holes where it doesn’t fit,

connect wires that refuse to make

any kind of electrical loop,

and all without cussing loudly.

Suddenly, like a ghost, your wife,

in long blue robe, appears at the garage door.

“Why don’t you come to bed?” she says.

Here’s a woman who’s trying to squeeze

a man on a mission

into the confinement of bed and blankets.

And you still don’t cuss loudly.