john stepped outside.
the chill night cooled
his sweaty forehead.
(cars passed by,
their headlights
making puddles glow
on the sidewalk)
he doubled over,
shut his eyes tight,
and tried to focus
just on breathing.
(square breathing:
inhale, hold,
exhale, hold…)
his ears filled
with sidewalk chatter,
tires on asphalt,
distant car horns,
alleyway shouting,
police sirens.
he opened his eyes
and looked up.
(a plane passed
silently overhead.
the streetlights
and headlamps
crowded out
the stars above.)
he thought
about pissing
in an alley
but decided
to hold it
and go back
inside.
(back to the heat,
the dim lights,
the mocking faces.)
he gently pushed
the door open.
nobody looked
at him as he
shuffled back
to the table
where his buddies
were laughing.
(at how he was
losing his hair,
at his terrible
luck with women,
at his inability
to handle his booze.)
he slid into
his seat.
when at last they
noticed him,
they hollered
for another round
on his tab
and howled
with delight
while he sat
silently and
grit his teeth.
(like fingernails
sinking into
the surface
of the moon,
like walking
down a dark
hallway with
fire alarms
ringing in
your ears.)
he could not
joke with them
about anything.
they paid him
no mind when
he got up again,
used the last
of his cash
to pay his tab,
and slunk back
into the dark.
he raised his hand
to call a taxi,
but none came.
(like a bluebird
perched on a
barren branch
just out of sight,
heard but not
seen, never seen.)
he rummaged
through his pant
pockets for his
keys, remembered
that the bartender
had them, and
began stumbling
home on foot,
feeling dirty water
seep into his
shoes and socks.
(apartment lights
stare blankly
from up above
like surgeons
cutting open a heart.)
he found himself
at his front door
without knowing
how long he had
been out there.
(is that the sun
beginning to poke
its head above
the skyscrapers
in the distance?)
he shoved the
door open and
staggered over
to the old couch.
his head hit the
cushions, and
he was asleep.
(you dream of
a mirror being
shattered
by a clenched fist,
a blood-soaked
molar falling
from a gaping
mouth,
a child choking
on black smoke
as an
inferno
slowly closes in.)
he awoke to
a crash from
the other room.
he blazed in,
his head ringing.
he saw the boy
(wretched thing.)
standing over
the fragments
of a shattered
ceramic plate,
already on the
verge of tears.
(do it.)
he clenched his fist.