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28.9.05
"What do you want?" she demanded suddenly, throwing her glass against the wall and standing back to observe not the glass breaking but the fact that she was the one who made it break.
It's a loaded question, I think to myself.
"I want more broken glass," I decide to respond, throwing my own glass against the wall and wondering where we will find more wine.
Neither of us wanted to argue.
We wanted to make love.
We wanted to knock the pedestals down and the pictures off the walls and shatter the window and wake the neighbors. It was palatable. You could cut it with a knife. You could eat it in pieces, slow, miserable pieces.
But oh, how we couldn't.
So there was a knock on the door, the proprietor, agressive, angry for our noise, trying to grab me by the hair and me suddenly reaching out and punching him in the mouth and standing back shocked, the both of us, his lip bleeding incoherent look in his eyes, what, who, you?
And then I hit him again.
And again and again and again.
*****
We would have been fine had it only been one smack.
If I'd have just hit him once, we could have just checked out the next morning, quiet like, maybe his wife would've done it, just to save face.
But I didn't just hit him once. I hit him over and over and over until I was spent, like a rifle tossed away after the spent cartridge.
So we had to leave. Immediately.
And down we ran, through farmer's fields, trampling on a season of crops to race down into the middle of darkness, nothing, middle of the night nowhere and ran all the faster because of it.
At the bottom of the hill was the village and in the village a train station.
And just like that, snap, we were gone.
6:34 PM
Spiders
They spin a web and catch bugs.
Winter,
I watched the same dead spider
for eleven months
never really decompose.
Spring,
I watched the same dead spider,
now noticing the latisse work behind it,
and hearing things that I'd brought back with me
into the room where the dead spider sat still.
Summer,
I was gone for most of it
but when I returned,
the spider was still there and
no other spider disturbed it
and all the webs were woven
in deference to it.
Fall,
All the new spider webs
got their catch -
eventually,
they'll have their thanksgiving
meals those spiders,
and all the while that same spider
will still be hung there
on his own web,
dead and waiting for what?
Spider heaven?
6:23 PM
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