an attempt to write the short story i have not been able to write all week

i tried.

then deleted.

tried again.

deleted.

so instead, here is a poemtypethingee i wrote last year.


*___*___*

ON PEOPLE HAVING A BOWL OF CEREAL AT 3:17AM ON A THURSDAY


Mike:
______Work sucked.
______let’s get this over with,
______and get to bed.
______Pour milk,
______crunch.


Michael and Tam:
______My forehead is damp,
______and the hairs of her fringe are
______tinted slightly darker when wet.
______We turn on the kitchen light and laugh about nothing.
______Love and noise and motion
______leave a hunger.
______I chew, hearing it crunch,
______but still only taste her.


Mick:
______what time is it?
______this room reeks of it,
______the doper smell of
______red-eyes, droopy-faced
______no-good, son-of-
______i must have dozed off

_______________god i’m hungry.

Q:
______he hates the hour,
______but refuses to sleep anyway.
______reads, or sits and stares away.
______complains of too little air.
______after 3, sits in the kitchen,
______fluorescents flicking like angels flying into mosquito traps.
______on the refrigerator door,
______pictures of his sister on her wheelchair:
_______________in a scouts outfit
_______________hugging a giant rabbit
_______________opening birthday presents
______the hour affords silence,
______and a sadness not available elsewhere.