wph

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. 

Old shadows break in the brand new walls 

The dirt projected by the naked winter giants of trees 

Stains bare wooden flesh with familiar rusty bandages 

Kid sitting at the edge of a dock.

Legs swinging in free fall.

Wood scrapes into his hands.

He thinks that the stars can talk to him.

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.