first I woke the birds clumsy steps on crumbling asphalt it was the antidepressants an undiagnosed chemical stroke my mood uplifted my right foot dragging on occasion tripping over carpet or in this case turd-black pebbles clattering waking hidden birds hearing their first peeps and calls three voices then four in the same tree then the block waking up
then I woke the wind my fingers flung wide walking down the middle of the street pulling the still air apart churning it with my blunt nails I never guessed the effort would create a clash of swords above sharp blades dropping onto parked cars an answering click and tinkle frozen blood drops are black not red
then the car lights brighter than porch lights jealous of the brightness of the sun sneering at the moon painting me in negative across clapboard expanses and concrete stoops unknown and thus malign my lack of proportion exaggerated
lastly the people shut away behind glass smeary or clear no difference squinting to see me and judge the hunched pack on my back they way I come open mouthed always disputing with god like he was a boss I could teach something to dictating new scripture though it makes a certain sense not a Hebrew just a modern era slave ignorant to the scent of rebellion
a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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