Bedbugs XVI

Bedbugs XVI


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Watching it rain again from office floor 218; even with weather,
you’re just a spectator. Says one thing, does whatever will harm
seems to be your and my and their MO. Someone
with no face slips me a note and is in the
elevator before I know it. One minute later I forget it’s there.
The color in the kitchen stands out only because
it's fading faster. Upstairs there is nobody but a man
scrawling in lipstick on each wall FOULED WITH
OUR SOULS.. Neglecting the crime scene that is a measure
of everyone’s broken dream which can’t be quantified
but we know when we lost it. Back to the playground
where it all was safe? The rattling I hear when I walk
can’t possibly be an instrument. Thinking about jumping is
as noncommittal as most lives care to be.
Can’t understand who’s next to me unless the manual
came with the box. Soaked through by moisture,
not worth the effort. How many shades of
grey can there be in paint? A lot. Noises
come from the smaller room, inside’s a projector
with oil and blackness spilling from its bulb. The
movie, nobody can understand it better.
The old loop from the reunion. Again.
Either ten seconds or ten years pass. Not sure which,
it’s time wasted either way. Texture is blind
but so is everything hiding under the bed.
Punctuate the moments you need to keep with you
and get back in line, they say. I’m not scared
of waking up, I’m scared to stay asleep
at least nine percent of the time. Numbers don’t matter
here, embracing something warm hearing the sounds
in my sleep.







Next week's seven phrases/groups of words:








-horns that sound like no other
-celebration for the three of them
-joy handed out in healthy rations
-comes up to the waist
-silence between sounds
-leaves too much room
-clouds gathering into a face's shape


-Adam Barnick