Now What Did You Say?

There's this guy, his name is Jeremy and he keeps telling this other guy, "I told you, you didn't have to do that."  But it's clear, he did.  Jeremy uses words like :Dude" or tells the other guy to shut up. "All you had to do was hand her the flowers and walk away." I don't know what he did.  That's all I can hear. The next conversation goes like this: You want me to do something about it Boss? no reply.. An announcer comes on and rapidly gives the results of the horse race, a crowd muscles and moans.  Everyone loses. Two boxers are in a ring, shit talking.  I hear the guy take his swing, bash! Sirens. Laura?   No answer. I fill the silence with old white noise I've heard and wasn't listening to.  I hear concerts, fights, baseball games, felony discussions and questions that have no real answer.  I hear it over an dover and over again and I start to think I am losing my mind.   I can't think clearly.   It...

Looking back over my shoulder, I don't see it coming. In retrospect, I don't know why. I was running. I'd been running. Commonly, people asked me if I was in witness protection. Often, people reminded me I was safe. Occassionally, they asked why I was on the lamb. You were right. My life is empty without you, my glass, hardly ever. You knew what it would do to me. You knew my demise was eminent and you didn't save me. Stupid laser pen and bat signal promises, just burned holes in the sky and cats were running wild all over the hills for some stupid reason. You knew I was angry and you let it fester. You let it get the better - of what, clearly, we will never know. You have got to be lonely. Hopefully, more than me, not that I mean it, but I think, it's only fair.  I suffer more. I can't find my roots. I have lost everything and no longer search at the pawn shops, the classifieds or elsewhere for the return of the past, I do not s...

The 1940s baseball game that plays in my head softly with the sound of the crowd crumpling like a bag of chips hushes, changing seats, brushing by one another at a hot dog stand, clapping, waiting for the next play... and it is replaced with frequencies that include lonely oldies and interference from a transistor radio arguments. "I told you not to" someone keeps whispering. "You were suppose to hand her the flower and leave."  Someone answers, hiss... and it changes again but never goes back to the baseball game and that was familiar. This is getting too close to the sound of voices and the clearer the message the more or less disturbed I become, I'll be fine, just need some sleep, as long as I can tell its in my head; but every now and then, someone calls my name, like a boy from behind a tree, hiding, I look he's not there, I hear an actor with an old time radio voice saying "Hey" like I stole his taxi. I am more frequently alone...