He knew what stitched his time together

                                                      held it bound and rolled inside a dirty green rubberband

that used to hold a newspaper thrown at a house and missed 

and laying on the grass in the front yard

lesions straining

finding their way in and weakening its elasticity               thinning it

newsprint stained and

made cheaper and cheaper by every stretch    or moment exposed to the sterile sun

                                                                                         he knew what tried his bindings 

and fabric                                                                                                                                          

as when he slept in his linen bed before an open window     and all that held at bay 

those starved insects 

their intimate directives tattooed eons before on their ancestors larval buttermilk-coloured 

flesh  its twining DNA

their numbers  numbing  generations too numerous ever to count or attest                                   

                                              wanting a piece of him                                                                                                                                     

                                                                                   held at bay  by the sheath and chasm

of a fragile manufactured screen

and like 

manufactured

he made his own joints and hinges   sheaths and chasms    and bent impossibly

attempting to avoid those

who didnt understand they had their own fashionings
                                                                                             and why

why wear a fashion not of their own making   or device

backfilling holes they didnt dig

                                                                                       there was something to be said      

for Knowing

and while it didnt make it any easier    or less fulminating

it was its fiery Spirit he enjoyed

and engendered

1355,  Tuesday,  15  7. 14         

He tried to stay a step ahead

                of what ?

                                                                                                what was he trying to outleg  

leave in his dust  what was he throwing looks over his shoulder at

gaining on him

                         Id bet surly imaginings

anxieties 

     dark foreboding themes  nebulous flickering images  cast on screens of tattered 

spider webs

Alive

in some secret place thatll never be

never draw breaths

or breed

   

                        spectral doppelgangers 

                                                                                               who are unable to cry for loss
smile for happiness  or shrug confused 

only to chase

                      and if he flinches perhaps

to catch him

   

                          should he make it so

1218,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  9  7. 14   

Thats it

thatd make a mother proud

put spring again in an old mans step

he walked out of the bathroom and down the hall to the mudroom to take a piss

                                                                                                                  howd that work

deep sink  yah

but he could have gone up the hall to the kitchen if he wanted to piss in a sink

hell  for that matter there was a castiron sink and washboard behind the garage he could piss in

or slip a loose plank in the gray weathered fence behind the garage and go into the vacant field beyond

a broken ornate stone cistern was there  it might enjoy a refreshing splash

it was all that remained from a fire years ago

the houses charred remains were bulldozed into its cellar and what didnt fit were spread across the large property

on rare hot days a smoke scent emanated from the ground

the family quit trying to sell the property  

their deranged son who started the fire in the livingroom died there

upstairs  his younger brother and sister died there

                                                                                   wherever it was  he thought he was going

or maybe like him

a slip of the mind

at crossed purposes

distracted by quivering shadows moving across the walls of his skull without actors or props to cast them

or a pinhole camera working off the light shining in through his eyes

he did something he wouldnt normally do

became untethered

and once begun there was no taking it back

he stood framed in the mudrooms doorway strangely tempted

nobody would know

but thats not the point 

or ever the point

hed know

not conscience  or guilt

his 

you didnt piss in a sink

thats when you dont do things

not coerced  thought you might be seen 

so you didnt

the twist was as he saw it  some people wanted others to know what theyve done

eventually  theyll say 

or hint elaborately at it

they say or commit suicide  

disregarding the innocence of others

1423,  Saturday,  12  7. 14