midwestern gothic

thank you for allowing me to return

I wait here, listening to the words here and there that flutter out through the screened windows...

short on words

... of course, when you’re standing naked by the fire, there is no real space for words.

i saw him shot in the night on my block

I see the man shooting: dark jeans, white sneakers, and bald as a baby, swinging the pistol wildly, hoping for luck or God to direct his slugs. 

how all wanting ends

Last night was still and quiet when I stepped out for smoke.  I had quit months ago.  But I wanted to feel that smoke in my lungs again.

the man with flowers in his hair

I can no longer see his eyes.  They are buried behind petals and greenery.  The eyes themselves may be feeding the root.

a turning

...hell’s got corners.  Hell, houses, bricks, belt buckles.

i always bring you into this (and who you are)

...I know you hear this.

prelude to existential horror not read this, this is not meant for you to read...

what dreams?

I will show you.  I will show you soon.  I will show you now.

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