Dreams and Houses II

God-damn Mike’s god-damned whisky.

He helps my key find
the lock, and I stumble through
the apartment like it’s a portal,
like that dream when I was a kid…
that room that was other rooms
all at once, or something.

I don’t know.

I sit on the fire escape
to clear my head.

There are voices. Behind the window
a girl voice gets fainter.
A boy voice calls
the names of cards
after her.
My hand is heavy
with a flashlight,
so I point it in the window.

The boy voice becomes a green
blur, then the blur is gone.

I turn around: it’s too familiar.
I think I’m in front of my old house.

On Eaton Court
a couple of kids
are undressing each other
loudly.

The girl looks at me
and points. I try to duck
and fall off the roof.

When I get up
my head is clearer.
The chrome on my dad’s olive Volvo
stretches my face.

The boy is almost to the front door
and I can smell him: a teenager
who doesn’t mind
his laundry pile.
Suddenly his feet stop
then turn sharply
toward the New Room
and he’s gone.

I’m between
my pillows
before I can turn
and raise my head.

Added: February 5, 2013 | Last changed: January 23, 2015