I do not know if he lived but like the monsters under my bed, he was real enough to touch me. His name was Borach to me. He used to keep carp in the bathtub. He used to make sauerkraut in the closet. I don’t know if he did that but it happened. He sneezed so hard that it shot him into the next Passover. I don’t know if he could walk but he followed me. Uncle Borach is my uncle and yet still was never there.
You, like sugar, I desire
You, like sugar crystals, shine in the light
You, like sugar, make me high
And you, like sugar, make me crash
As you reach the end of the hallway, you notice someone behind you. They have their hands full, and they appear to be in a good mood. They are six feet away, and there is no one following them.
There we stood, my brother and I, on the mighty cliffs of Stop & Shop, staring down upon our vast kingdom that was Route 7 and the subjects of the parking lot.
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.