tuesday, august 1, 2023
one for jack
here we are in one of those times of dying
and i'm fucked if i know what to do
i've never known, i likely never will
it was so dark at 5 o'clock that the streetlight came on
in the alley out back, and i started flicking switches
on the lamps
water poured through the kitchen window when it rained
and i got one of those fancy new reverse 911 calls
about the flash flood warning
and now in the aftermath
the mice in the walls are more agitated than usual
i suppose they may have gotten wet
now the storm has shuffled off east, and
there's a thin mist rising off the streets
and i'm on the couch, drinking iced whiskey and orange soda
out of an aluminum camp mug
i should kill the mice in the walls
(god damn them, i don't want to kill anything at all)
i should fix the windows
i should muck the rainwater out of the crawlspace
i should be stone sober, waiting for what comes next
but it's true enough:
the times you should be most in your right mind
are often the times you least want to be in that
mind at all.