6 years old on a monday night, 1963...

the vibration of his voice
tells all there is in that universe

when i was a kid
waiting for mom
to come home
from
bowling

in the odd quiet
of the house
except
for
his ham radios
squawking
from the basement

near 9 o' clock
i would be listening
hard
for the sound
of our car

the engine slowing
for the turn
in

the sound of
the tires
pushing aside
each pebble
in the graveled driveway...

my sister
& i listened
hard

like a dog
chained
outside
a supermarket
for his masters voice

safety

this meant my
savior
was home...

though 40 years
have passed
since
then

that sound
and the feeling of glee
and light returning
through the darkness

as the door burst open
with her first steps
on our hardwood floors
the mixed
smell of her
sweet perfume
and deep ruby red
lip stick
and cigarette smoke
filled the air suddenly
and wafted up the stairs
to my room

the tv
went on first
bringing the life
of the world back into
our world...

all the strange strained
voices, lights, and color
bouncing off the walls
of the stairway
and finally the ceiling
over my bed...

the dog sleeping
on the end
by my toes...

all was finally right again
with my world...

until
i wet
the bed...

and the shame
cold and wet
took over...

or

i
woke
in the darkness
to see all those
multi-colored
creatures coming at me
trying to get me

those angels
and the dark creatures
fighting over me

as i
terrified
dive under the covers
tucking in the sides
so they can't reach up
from underneath

falling
asleep again
holding the covers
over my head
with both clenched hands
as if my life
depended on it
because

it
did