Object Permanence

Published April 10, 2012 by April Fox

no sleep, and the dark tastes like
[last night i dreamed of rushing through a small town
in a raging thunderstorm
on my way to get somewhere
and there were women in the road, unmoving
when i sighed and wished they’d hurry up
one of them was struck by lightning
and every time she stood up
i wished she’d move again
out of the way, so i could go
and she got struck again
electricity arcing through her arms and legs
like a cartoon
the buzz like a bug zapper
plugged into an amp
i don’t know where this came from, lady cops and ambulances
asking did i see the lightning strike
did i see where she got hit
and then i was walking past the house i lived in
fifteen years ago
i recognized the paint, the driveway
my old chevette parked there at an angle
and i turned around and walked the other way
leaving behind a dead rabbit and a can of beer
in the road]
in the house, now, there is only the humming of the mac
sitting on the dresser
and the faint thump of the music
from the house across the street
i find it comforting, to hear it
lets me know that there is life nearby
that we are not inside a vacuum
though most days, i’d prefer it
if we were.
earlier there was talk of
permanence, and my neuroses tumbled out like
something metaphorical
that tumbles
i can’t think
insert analogy here
my mouth should have barbed wire stretched across it
to keep in the things that should be left
safe and warm inside my head
when i said it would be easier
i meant logistically
for practicality, for making it work out
i wish i had his trusting hippie sensibility.
no sleep, and the melatonin makes me bleary
in the head, eyeballs fuzzing over with the
mold of leftover thoughts
left out too long
i can barely stay awake now
and sleep tastes like

i want to cut and paste my thoughts
into a ransom note
send it to you and
wait on the corner
by the trash can, inconspicuous
till you show up, sparse and furtive
to make the drop.

One comment on “Object Permanence

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