tv watching with her out in the living room
dim lights and soft glow and black table
loaded with beer bottles and dirty napkins
and the futon in the corner covered with
laundry in need of folding—but probably for
another day—these feet were propped up
and a plate was on my belly
and crumbs rolled from lip to lip as I
breathed with tummy full and next to me
sat her and then
she rests her head upon my boney shoulder—
as if I could ever be of comfort—
and lets out a sigh. The tv glows and
the commercials come then go and
the show is on but there’s that air of
just staring at a thing across the room.
She says to me after a bit—after I’ve moved
and put the plate upon the table—
“So what’s happening?”
I look at her and just look, you know—
just look and what do you mean?
“What’s happening with us? What am I
to you? Why are you here?”
And exactly why I’m here—I don’t know—
who knows but the impulses that rage
and rage throughout the mind only to be
calmed by an uninteresting tv show.
What are you saying?
“I’m crazy,” she says, “I’m bat-shit crazy.”
I know—I know that’s why I hang with you because,
because—those impulses that lightning across the mind...
She sits back after looking me in the eyes and
falls upon the tv and says to the glowing thing
“Just tell me everything will be ok.”
Suddenly, I don’t feel as—as I did
earlier in the day. She says
“Just say Yes.”
To just say a thing is—to just say it
and what’s behind it is a long line of
I don’t know but it’s a thing that’s just—
I don’t know—I don’t know—I don't say it.
No comments:
Post a Comment