06 May, 2009


You first saw the light in the room you most likely were conceived in. A cat mews in the corner. You crawl around inspecting dustbunnies and contemplate the stucco ceiling on your back with the light in your face. Youʼre lying in your bed face down startled awake by a slam. Part of the dream? Perhaps. You wait you hear crying you wait you hear yelling you wait you sweat you cry. A bottle shatters and light comes in through the window by streetlight. A thud and you wait you wait you wait and you sleep. You dream you see the light in the womb you were conceived in. You promise.

A faint voice at loudest. A faint cat mews from somewhere in the walls. She crawls on all fours stands upright and walks talks. The light shelters below it up from down where it came from. You look behind you to see what is in front. A door slams and you look up crossword puzzles and der Spiegel sit strewn organized chaotically. In the hallway is darkness visible. Literal daggers and you cry. Flowers fly by you singing fear in your ear and shatters behind you shards drop. You try to protest but your tongue is too free to articulate. It stings vibrating red and you fall to your back and speech is a faint voice at loudest. The light darkens above from down up where it went. You promised.

You are an old man plodding along a narrow country road. You fish you hunt you gather you breathe you drink. A cigarette hangs staggeredly from your mouth. You work hard you work hard you work hard you drink. She walks across the shag and mumbles a few words. You are indifferent. It is dark in the hallway and you can see that. You walk in and accost der Spiegel and throw a vodka bottle at the wall it shatters and you drink. She cries. You promised. You drink. You swing. Swing and a miss strike three Jays lose again. You sit alone in front of the television and the light comes in through the window sprinkling the game. You do not drink. You are alone. You do not drink. You are an old man and you plod along a certain narrow country road. He died eight months ago, alone in front of the tv. Yet you read.

Unpublished (December 2009)

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