the walls, white, locked in a room. defeated, lost breath, unfound, unfounded. people, like figures of geometry, legends on a map, move in & out, breathing, of the room. their shapes cast shadows just when i thought they were not. i am uncomfortable; no one will comfort me. calling on the telephone, calling on the lord landline.
today was something & the weather was something. the person on the radio kept repeating to stay calm. i looked out the window & then at another person. i opened my mouth to say a word or maybe two when the radio spoke again telling everyone to remain. it was like that all day, no one noticing & people sometimes pausing with a leg in the air like a dog, trying to decide or make some decision. they must have eventually.
intolerable interminable silences walling up from the half places to be watched, to fill up the crooks, crooked nooks, nothing. the light, pure, filtered through striations of impurities splashing like an infected gash across the face. open sore. the noises of its silence. a drowning drinking silent noise like the moment before an orchestra crashes into a denture.
|
AuthorI write short stories. This is my blog. I'm going to write whatever. Archives
October 2014
Categories
All
|