Midwestern night.
There’s something out in the fields,
Something banging on the roof.
Fresh vomit in the toilet.
The sink is running, so you can’t
Hear your own heavy breathing.
Dad snores away in bed
Oblivious to the monster at the window.
The memory of nights like these
Grow archaic to him now.
But when you pass through the kitchen
On your way back to your room
Those eyes blare just as real as yours do.
Long, exhausted bars of light in my window
Chase away the late night that came before them,
And prime me for the next one.
I look at the empty kiddie pool in my backyard
In the Midwest summer
My friends used to come to my house
So they could all get in it,
But they don’t like to swim much anymore
I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves.
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