Note From My Moleskine #14

August 31, 2009

18 August 2009
Owl’s Head, ME

The headlights stream across
a cul-de-sac lawn
Jack’s just sittin’ there
He’s got no clothes on
He’s got blood on his hands
and fur in his teeth and
a big Buck knife sheath strapped
to his left arm and about
three hours to catch the bus
to Fort Drum.

Jack’s father rolls up, steps
out of a car dressed like
a cop.
“That your blood,” he says.
Jack says no. Dad says,
“Well, we’ll see what we can
do about that before you go.”

The river moans.
My headlights cut down everything
I see.
Jack flies out to defend me
from himself. His father
pretends to protect me from
himself.
The river moans.
There is nothing left for me to cut down.

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