unfolded fingers let loosen stoplights on a slow blink
a necklace of yellow teeth pulled from a meth head’s mouth
i was desparate for a dollar but forgot to check her bra
i folded fingers back up again, and lifted a sidewalk tile
shined a cellphone flashlight on worms and beetles.
(had to click the buttons to keep the screen lit,
heard a voice and said nothing until they hung up)
you can check the accuracy of a number by the phonebooks i have stacked in the bathroom,
the letter z is a hidden compartment hollowed out and glued solid.
a wedding ring shook around inside, bent at impossible angles
i switched it out with some wire and unlucky broken mirror parts
flushed the toilet, pulled up my pants, accidentally locked the door behind me
i held the ring in my sweaty hands and closed my eyes and let it guide me
walked in random directions until i found her, choking on peanut butter
McDonalds wasnt open yet, so she was doing what she needed to do -
i dropped the ring into her hand and said it was a great painkiller
(she said she didn’t take pills but i didn’t believe her
i could tell because i saw ghosts between the trees, spying on her flesh
since the dead want to take her over an experience weak life again)
somebodys alarm clock went crazy with loud talk radio
i stepped aside to let the sounds pass by
but a bus went by instead, the one i wanted to catch,
and i wondered if she would mind if i stayed there for an hour
(my mumbling facade, my blow dryed hair
i was getting wet again with sweat, giggling to myself once in while
over an old joke that doesn’t make much sense nowadays)
chris bullock
