Saturday, February 3, 2007

(Peter H's Funeral) A Time To Render

I just went to pray, nothing on the doorstep, the theatre chairs
empty, the performance cancelled...annulled...I search for my name, I
google, I seek. I ask for direction. I as for a structure, belief,
system, blot.

I sneeze, my glands swell.

I am detached, like his eyes that peer at me. I cannot win what.

My shoulder blades cool. My chest stiffens. I am a shell. The sound
of the sea omits from my orifices. The smell of a pungent rotting
welcomes night.