her words awakened
physical pain
in him
the mere sound of them
was like
claws scratching against
his brain
When she's old enough,
a mother can
hurt her son
like she never could in
her youth
Listening to her
now,
he felt like crying
And she wasn't even
cursing him
She just looked around
and then finally set
her eyes on him
and repeated the
same question
"When is he
coming home?"
"But mother, I am home,"
he cried. "It's me!"
But in reply
she would only make a
confused face
and start looking around
again
and ask the same
question again
She was
only 62
and aside from her
mind
everything was healthy
about her
which only meant that
they'll both be
stuck in
this hell
for longer
Years that will
feel like decades
by the time she was done rolling that cigarette it looked like a broken, gnarly twig regardless, she put it between her lips, lit a piece of nacho on fire and used that to light the cigarette and then just watched the nacho burn until the flames reached her fingers “Do you remember when dreams used to have colors?” she asked “Color?” he said, and thought about it. “Yeah, it was back in the days when I was a kid and movies were black and white.” She watched him through a veil of smoke that she thickened by blowing some more. “Wow, you’re, like, old as fuck then.” “Old enough to know there were better times, dear. Way better times. When dreams had color and sound…” “Listen,” she said, “is this a rant on technology and how it fucks our minds an’ all that?” “What? Not at all. I mean…
this was needed
One more
strong coffee
one more
poem
and then he
would go to
sleep
it was
almost morning
he would sleep
during the day
and
return the next
night
to write
more poems
His lower back
was hurting
It was either the
kidney stones
or
the hemorrhoids
or both
or something entirely
new
Well,
it was all right
A writer writes
and a sick man
suffers
and they are quite
the same
At 44
his wife was 22
years younger than him
She would still
make him coffee
and cook his meals
and even read his poems
The ones that weren’t
about torturing
and murdering women and
children
even got published online
About eleven
of them
He was on
the right path
Success will reach him
earlier than
death will
It was a matter of
days for
both
Daydreaming as a profession 