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Spaghetti knots

gun k

on the night i died

my pants coughed on the carpet

there was a distant football game

with a score in a dead-even tie

and you were still with her

 

there wasn’t much to see

though i’d die sooner than admit it

 

a few streetlights curled on the streets

speaking of what it was to be the sun

some people squeaked through below curtains

ready to begin again whole tomorrow

a cat meowed into an empty alleyway

sniffing the ancient ocean that was once

 

i started off writing

knowing nothing else

though even that was known

to be less than this

 

i began

 

dear dear

beware headlights

they beam

smiling families

into divorce

by accident

 

i middled

 

you must become the stink

to come up with the fresh

see smell? exclaim

hear sight? riot

rot roar

you have to have to

to live in the blue

then mind your head

when above

always bets on

the end

of

the end

 

i ended

 

what years

were spent

on what

 

what

he says

trying to make sense

of the space

 

what

she says

annoyed

this time

 

what

they say

mistaking steps

for sound

slowness

for saving

 

what went wrong?

what went wrong.

 

i waited

for something

for nothing

for me

 

so

i rose i rise

i tripped and trip

on the sickly pants

and

i watched and watch

snakes burned and burning

in a little bit of yellow

from the fall

that called to the cat

a bulletin that the game was postponed

in what was said to be a storm that hasn’t been seen

in centuries

 

much later

i live another

89 years

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About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.

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