A Behooving
It was a one-sided argument
spinning on its side.
It was cold and it made me
dizzy, turning on
a saturated landmass.
I saw it was about to rain
and made a run for it
and squeezed through a fence
so cars wouldn’t follow.
I climbed the ladder
to the roof where it was
starting to drizzle.
The gate was locked
but I knew about the hidden
stairwell –I used to
stay there after getting
my injection and act all
innocent –like the rhododendron
poking in from out
of the frame and I had to
jiggle the handle
where a spider in a bowl
of candle drippings trembled
like a leaf shaking
stars from their stems.
Author: Gerald Yelle
0 Comments