the music sinks, weaves inward,
out, throughout, and
he is standing on the edge of the sofa, not
sure what to do.

i am reading the paper, and getting
randomly pissed off, i
just want it all to stop, all this
fucking around, me and you,
us and all of us, the ocean the
earth, the pathway over there by the organic market.

the reservoir is dying. my blood pressure is
up. very up. like that hardcore song on the broken stereo,
that’s been lodged in my head for the last
20 years, and
i wish he would just jump. it’s only a 2 foot drop, but
we are all becoming scared around here, in our little
global community.

we don’t really do anything.
i’m not doing anything. i’m just waiting for him to jump,
like a spark from a fire, like
a wound out of nowhere, like
a flash grenade, like the chemicals.

on.
my.
skin.

i still feel it all there.
everything i’ve done. and everything
i haven’t done.
i’m ashamed for me, and something is going to break, something has
got to give, like maybe that floor when he jumps, i am
standing on that floor and maybe we will both sink,
into a lovely unexpected sinkhole,
where that fucking hardcore song disappears,
where that sound stops threading, where
it is no longer a part of me, where

i did something different with my life.

but for now, i’m waiting for him to fall,
so i won’t be alone. i’m
waiting for him to fly so
i can be carried away.
i’m waiting for the walls to disappear, for
the sparks to stop, for him to jump and
for the waking, the waking.
the forgiveness and the
waking.