Not Towards Any
Morgan Eldridge


poking suds in luke warm cup of coffee
thanking each one
until there is none—no one
suds to grounds
throwing acorns across counters
maniacal laughter
a loud cry—fear
your father is sleeping
with women half your mother’s—
your age—maybe less
a drop of water prefers to fall
once fallen is absorbed
into another state of transition
check your reflection in every surface passed
your attempt—what others name a breaking point
to disturb
say things to self sitting in car out front of small business
yell loudly with all the windows rolled up
they do not see—they do not
all my friends have plotted a murder
the government has plotted a murder
i am the government
i murdered the government
in small town when someone shows signs of insanity
the protocol is to call the cops for a mental health evaluation
the cops come dressed in purple panda costumes
walk to hospital on christmas
the air is warm
ask to visit sally
the nurse at the desk asks if we are related
say i have no relations
ask again to visit sally
quietly—think maybe the hospital is closed on christmas
look at three christmas trees in the waiting room
realize there are christmas trees in each chair
lining the walls of the room
blinking winking not towards any
the nurse asks how i know sally
i tell her i do not know anything or any one really
another nurse appears behind the desk looks at me from a distance
walking out of the doors of the hospital
take familiar paths through streets of small town
past houses lived in
spin in streets waving arms—jumping skipping
shake my head in all directions
tickle wet lips pressed together making humming ha sound
no one is in town
all the bodies left to go to someone—to something
alone walking—i am visiting
inside—sally is snowing