Francis: So, how’s the Gym?
Ethan: It’s good. You know, it’s another weight to carry. (Laughs) I crack myself up.
Francis: Yeah, yeah, What’s for suppers?
Ethan: I was thinking we could try this steamed salad…and wait for the kicker, pomegranate juice…
Francis: Mmm Well that sounds healthy and nutritiously delicious.
Ethan: Francis! Put that down!
Francis: What? Do we not eat desserts first?
Francis: Oh hey, don’t mind me, I’m just taking my bath…
Francis: Yeah just like last time, remember? Remember how that went?
Oh look, no water…
But I’m all clean…
Ethan: I feel like I’m getting threatened, should I call someone?
Francis: Look at this dirt…disgusting… good thing I’m all clean now.
(Fire in the blood)
(The wait is erotic)
I wonder what you wrote just for you?
Between the margins?
Inside your address book?
I wonder how your letters were?
How many did you throw away?
Did you have secret lines
Only one person would understand?
I just reached 30
I wish I could ask you how this goes
where loss is
How it feels
Did you feel it coming?
Did you write regardless ?
I feel this guilt, like acid in my chest,
When I think about the things I don’t say
I reserve the right to write whatever I want…
Nothing is permanent
And I think about that heat
I think about that loss
Like words,forgotten unused…
How many did we lose?
I pour her tea
She writes on the sides of the pages of her journal
She has a novel she’s working on
She doesn’t think she’ll finish it
We can hear them coming
And it occurs to us
You can hear and feel
Life around you this
Absurd chess game we try so hard at
These boots coming
She won’t finish this novel…
I drink my tea
She’s here for a moment
I close my eyes
Like so many things
Blown away by a storm
The sun comes out
And I wonder
If we missed her,
I wonder how many more like her
The cow lazily grazed through the grass…waiting to roll in the…
Ethan: Hey! Don’t roll in that! Do you want another bath? What is that anyway? Ugh…gross…
Simon: Dad, I’m not Simon, I’m a cow.
“What’s up stoopid.”
Tara sat down across from me, her brown hair blocking the clock on the church across the street. Fortunately , part of the sun as well.
“What is that brain working on now? Who brings a book to a bar anyway?”
I stared. what do you want Tara?
I had to admit, it felt weird coming back home…the mills closed. Empty buildings, like coffins, waiting for their dead or a hotel with empty floors…just shadows of memory.
Tara smiled, lit a cigarette,
You know, you have to be 21 now.
Hey, we‘re all older.
I closed my book.
Asking myself why I came back home…but I really, already knew.
Maybe that was what bothered me.
Tara hadn’t changed that much. She had a way of moving through the weights and the hard moments. Seemingly unscathed.
I was not so lucky.
I took a breath. Feeling flashes of my childhood walking past me in the street.
This room slowly fills with water
Not at peace
My insides have long burned out
As have my eyes
I listen to the words in my head
The birds of prey
Fall from this night sky
From outside the door
I can feel myself
Getting bad again
I am becoming
That you never
He hasn’t been around much
I am trying
Against all pain
The room drowns out
All the daylight
I keep giving away …
I’m going away
(I’ll never say)
It’s all so clear
The room disappears
And all the time
Falls from the clock in the kitchen
Where we hid our weapons
I won’t confess
It’s a drowning
I’ll write no words
All this time
All this time…