Time the Third, September 19 by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Time the Third, September 19
The third time he really loses it
I have to call his parents at one in the morning
they drive across the bridge
while I sit on the floor by the couch
half slapping, half stroking his face
I am useless until they come
He spends fifteen minutes in the bathroom
trying to brush his teeth,
using every toothbrush but his own
After they've left and he's back in bed
I stand over the sink like a commander surveying a battlefield
I never thought I'd feel this helpless in my life
I feel completely and utterly useless
that's the first night in over a year
that I spend on the couch.
Rite Aid, September 23rd by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Rite Aid, September 23rd
I find myself
inescapably drawn
boots out the door
key in the ignition
dragged down the florescent-lit aisle
wallet out at the all night kiosk
I find myself buying kraft macaroni and cheese
How is this my solace; my sanity
it's hard to eat anything nowadays
but I gulp it down
spoonful after spoonful
hot, cheesey crap
staining my face, my hands,
I don't even know who I am anymore.
The Vacation, August 7th by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
The Vacation, August 7th
On the phone with my grandfather,
and he tells me that he's fine before I get the chance to ask.
Last week he got up,
out of the arm chair that he calls home,
made his painful way upstairs
and started packing a suitcase full.
My grandmother walked in on him,
asked him what he was doing.
"Aren't we going on vacation somewhere?" He asked.
"I'm fine," he tells me.
And he really believes it.
Parking Lot, April 5th by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Parking Lot, April 5th
The homeless man at the supermarket
orders a pound and a half of macaroni salad
I can't help but stare and he stares back
his eyes are bright blue and the only part of him not covered in grime
Later, when I'm pulling out of the parking lot
I see him at the curb as he pops the lid and shovels it down his throat
I drive thirty all the way home
I listen to talk radio and almost hit a deer.
Yard Sale, August 12th by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Yard Sale, August 12th
I spend months searching for the perfect bathroom stand
and finally find it at a dead guy's yard sale
"He used it for burning candles or something," the woman tells me,
"I'm sure the wax will come right off."
she is barely there herself,
a thin layer of cigarette smoke and bad perfume
she is only too happy to see it go.
I get back to the apartment and scrape the candle wax of with a butter knife
I stick the stand in a corner where I will look at it every day
a piece of this person's life
now doomed to spend eternity as my bathroom's bookstand
it was only seven dollars
sometimes I feel as if I get away with anything.
Time the Third, September 19 by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Time the Third, September 19
The third time he really loses it
I have to call his parents at one in the morning
they drive across the bridge
while I sit on the floor by the couch
half slapping, half stroking his face
I am useless until they come
He spends fifteen minutes in the bathroom
trying to brush his teeth,
using every toothbrush but his own
After they've left and he's back in bed
I stand over the sink like a commander surveying a battlefield
I never thought I'd feel this helpless in my life
I feel completely and utterly useless
that's the first night in over a year
that I spend on the couch.
Rite Aid, September 23rd by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Rite Aid, September 23rd
I find myself
inescapably drawn
boots out the door
key in the ignition
dragged down the florescent-lit aisle
wallet out at the all night kiosk
I find myself buying kraft macaroni and cheese
How is this my solace; my sanity
it's hard to eat anything nowadays
but I gulp it down
spoonful after spoonful
hot, cheesey crap
staining my face, my hands,
I don't even know who I am anymore.
The Vacation, August 7th by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
The Vacation, August 7th
On the phone with my grandfather,
and he tells me that he's fine before I get the chance to ask.
Last week he got up,
out of the arm chair that he calls home,
made his painful way upstairs
and started packing a suitcase full.
My grandmother walked in on him,
asked him what he was doing.
"Aren't we going on vacation somewhere?" He asked.
"I'm fine," he tells me.
And he really believes it.
Parking Lot, April 5th by kid-in-the-back-row, literature
Literature
Parking Lot, April 5th
The homeless man at the supermarket
orders a pound and a half of macaroni salad
I can't help but stare and he stares back
his eyes are bright blue and the only part of him not covered in grime
Later, when I'm pulling out of the parking lot
I see him at the curb as he pops the lid and shovels it down his throat
I drive thirty all the way home
I listen to talk radio and almost hit a deer.