I don't like the Mission. At the end of the day, as I'm walking home, I hear noises. Strange noises. When I look around, for the strange noises, I see no one or anything that could be making such noises.
I tell my friends, and they ask me to describe the strange noises.
I say, "They're just strange, that's all."
The next day, as I'm walking home, I hear the strange noises again, but somewhere deep down it occurs to me that maybe the noises aren't so strange after all.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
winter light
Your voice found its way to me, keeping me awake. You said, "I can't sleep without you." I heard birds calling out to me in the distance, and a bright light filtered in through the trees. "I miss you," you said, finding me again. I miss you too, I said. Standing in your light, I wondered if you could hear me.
hide and seek
Hiding. We're downstairs in your parent's basement. It's dark.
"We're safe when the lights are off," you say.
I ask about the party upstairs, and you mumble something. I ask when your parents are getting home, and you say you don't know. I ask lots and lots of questions, and you kiss me to shut me up. When we're done kissing, you say you want a drink, so I go upstairs to get you a drink. When I return the lights are still off.
"I told them to turn the music down," I say.
You kiss me over and over again, then you whisper in my ear: "Can you see in the dark?"
I shake my head, but you can't see me.
"We're safe when the lights are off," you say.
I ask about the party upstairs, and you mumble something. I ask when your parents are getting home, and you say you don't know. I ask lots and lots of questions, and you kiss me to shut me up. When we're done kissing, you say you want a drink, so I go upstairs to get you a drink. When I return the lights are still off.
"I told them to turn the music down," I say.
You kiss me over and over again, then you whisper in my ear: "Can you see in the dark?"
I shake my head, but you can't see me.
my father, the ghost
One day my mom takes me downtown to the bank to meet my father, the banker. He smiles when he sees us. Son, my bank has more money than any other bank in the world, he explains. He gives me a dollar in quarters, and mom and I go for ice cream.
Another day, my father works as a doctor. I get sick with a fever, so he rushes home to see me. Smiling, he takes my temperature and wipes the sweat off my forehead. I enjoy his smile tremendously.
Actually, my father's not a banker or a doctor. I'm not sure what he is or isn't. Perhaps he's a fisherman, and he takes me on his big boat. Or maybe he works in a library and brings me a new book to read every night. In some other world, my father fights evil, capitalist bankers with a sword and brings home flowers for mom. My father, the superhero.
My father is neither this nor that. I really do see him at the bank, the doctor's office, and the library; on a big boat; and in my dreams, fighting capitalism. I see him everywhere, in fact. But, if you see him, please tell him I just want my father, the father.
Another day, my father works as a doctor. I get sick with a fever, so he rushes home to see me. Smiling, he takes my temperature and wipes the sweat off my forehead. I enjoy his smile tremendously.
Actually, my father's not a banker or a doctor. I'm not sure what he is or isn't. Perhaps he's a fisherman, and he takes me on his big boat. Or maybe he works in a library and brings me a new book to read every night. In some other world, my father fights evil, capitalist bankers with a sword and brings home flowers for mom. My father, the superhero.
My father is neither this nor that. I really do see him at the bank, the doctor's office, and the library; on a big boat; and in my dreams, fighting capitalism. I see him everywhere, in fact. But, if you see him, please tell him I just want my father, the father.
woman of the day
I'm a man, and I have needs. Yesterday, I'm walking to work. The sky is blue and looks like the sky. The grass is green, looking like grass. The tress, flowers, and plants -- all looking like trees, flowers, and plants. It's early. On my way to work I find a ten dollar bill on the ground, then run into an old friend I haven't seen since high school.
"Hello, old friend," I say. "I haven't seen you since high school. You've aged, but you still look like you -- as you should."
"Hello," my old friend says.
My old friend leads me back to her apartment. We talk. She makes me coffee, and we have sex. On my way to work again, I notice that the ten dollar bill is gone and ninety dollars is missing from my wallet. Everything still looking like it should--the sky, grass, trees, flowers, and plants, respectively. At work I can't help but think of my old friend. She hasn't changed since high school, but that's okay, because I like her just the way she is -- as she should be.
"Hello, old friend," I say. "I haven't seen you since high school. You've aged, but you still look like you -- as you should."
"Hello," my old friend says.
My old friend leads me back to her apartment. We talk. She makes me coffee, and we have sex. On my way to work again, I notice that the ten dollar bill is gone and ninety dollars is missing from my wallet. Everything still looking like it should--the sky, grass, trees, flowers, and plants, respectively. At work I can't help but think of my old friend. She hasn't changed since high school, but that's okay, because I like her just the way she is -- as she should be.
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