on days like this
on days like this
you pick up the phone
hoping there are no messages
and if there are messages
maybe they're for dave.
(dave who?)
there was blood on the stairs
and walls
that night
when you heard the breaking
glass and screams
those screams
and that breaking
that pounds you from your eardrums
and rumbles through
your body
as if it were a life
and you know what it means
to sleep a day away
when you call the police
and they say
they can't do anything
until next time
the time when you
run through the dark
suburban streets
barefoot
and pound on neighbors'
doors who don't want
to hear it
'cause nobody wants to hear it
really.
-k.l.c., nyc, 4/3/01
broke kitty with a one-two punch
Email: katlachatte25@hotmail.com