Adjustments

Adjustments

I came up with a new plan
one morning
in early Summer 1981.

I put the plan in action
and moved into
La Maison Apartment #602.

Paid for after selling
the silver dollars
my grandfather had given me
collected since childhood.

I'd grown weary
of the rooming house
drudgery.

The odd rules
the land lady
kept coming up with.

I was cautiously
optimistic
about good times
in the future.

I was writing up
a new project
some kind of "poetry novel".

Also it was an easier trip
to and from work.

Three blocks
down La Vista
then hop down
onto the westbound tracks.

So with my friend Jag
and his pickup truck
we loaded what I had
and were gone.

A screaming weekend
moving in to
La Maison Apartment #602.

Laughing, drinking, brawling
and most of all
free from the rooming house.

By Monday morning
everyone was gone.

It was still dark
but I could
see the light coming.

I walked into Dunk And Dine
around the corner
from La Maison
on Cheshire Bridge Road.

Moving had been hard
but I got squared away.
Time to have breakfast
and usher in the dawn.

I watched the sunrise
through the window
with the neon still flashing.

Watched the sun rise
above the slightest view
of the Atlanta skyline
circa 1981.

Atlanta was the city
in a constant state
of adjustment
I'd read that in a magazine.

Making plans for
an adjustment of my own
a change of attitude.

In the back booth
with a cigarette
I still thought of Katherine.

She was still drifting
in my orbit
but I knew there was
something going on.

She had landed a better job
with help from a new friend.

Perhaps an old lover
but I brushed back
my paranoia.

The week before
she'd left me on the sidewalk
looking up
hearing laughter
on the second floor.

I made a scene
because I lacked the courage
to do nothing.

Then after that
she was back
and just as quickly
gone again.

She was taking her first steps
to an independent life
without me.

As I was just about
to do the same.

I liked the jukebox there
one of the old booth models.

Selections could be made
for the jukebox
from the table.

I flipped quickly
admiring vintage photos.

I punched in a matching tune
for my maudlin
yet optimistic mood.

The Country music singer
played soft:

"People say I'm stone crazy
to be in love with you
and get nothing more..."

It had become clear
it was now
every man for himself.

I stepped outside
into
the warm bright morning.

Crossing through the alley
headed to the lumber yard
time to start the day.

Time for an
adjustment.

I knew
it was time
to carve another notch.

-Will Dockery