“Consumption by night”

We lay in the bed
apart, together.
She talks in her sleep.
I don’t
so I listen to the madness.
Outside in the alleyway,
someone or something
slams the dumpster lid
again and again—
tossing in bottle after bottle,
banging away. My muscles want me
to move. I get up.
The blood never travels fast
enough. I momentarily blackout.
But the room is black, so I don’t
mind it. I stumble to the window,
slide it open— and growl like a lion.
The dark shape in the alleyway
flutters off like tailpipe exhaust.
I stumble to the shower, pulling
off my tshirt and shorts
along the way. I turn on
the cold water, full blast.
Getting in, I just want to forget.
“Make me forget,” I moan
blathering into the showerhead
as though nuzzled in her bosom;
My eyes shut.
I stay in here awhile, freezing
my body. My blood
escapes my limbs
to make love to my vital organs.
I’m not sure what happens
to that bad blood in my brain,
but half a minute under,
I begin to forget.
The shower shuts off.
I dry off on a damp towel.
I walk to the bed,
where I get in.
We lay in the bed
apart, together.
She talks in her sleep.
I don’t
But I begin to forget—
and that’s good enough
for dreaming this night
and any other.

narrative poem written on 09-09-2011 by: on mattkane.com
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