1. It has been twenty seven days since I last let the
hawk-eyed man into my head, ninety four hours
since I last drank myself to sleep, and thirty two
minutes since I last kept my mother from the truth.
Tonight, she still thinks I have hope, but it may be
the last time she believes I'm still whole.
i. Last night, I dreamt of the boy next door, the gun
in his drawer, the whiskey under his bed, the hate
in his eyes when he drags me out of bed to tell me
I've ruined another story, I've fanned another flame.
This boy does not know my mother, but I suspect
they would get along quite well.
2. The last time my father crossed the ocean, I explained
to my mother that the cogs ground too hard, that the