…hiding

He knows it’s raining

even before he hears it

a feeling

inside out

nerves and bone touching

cold sheets

all alone

sticking to his mattress

heavy headed

despite hours of sleep.

 

The shutters are closed

he doesn’t want to move

the patter is loud

sounds like music

after a while

maybe just the wind

blowing pieces

of ice and snow

maybe he slept

for six months

it’s winter

maybe six years

or sixty years

maybe the world

is ending

or has ended

polar bears growl

paw at frosty

doorways

and rusting cars

everywhere now

they took over

when the world turned to ice

six hundred years later,

now, it’s fucking now.

 

He glares at the shutters

what do they hide

so much

so he continues to

act like them

a closed secret

this is his reality

certain now

summer died

he died

love died

hopeless and dreamless

‘I’ll become an

honorary polar bear

I can teach them

fire and music

icicle clarinets

and seal gut

guitar strings.

I can be

their Merlin

their Da Vinci,

the last human

alive.’

 

He rolls over

drools into his pillow

forces himself

to sleep

just a little more

until maybe

the world might

end again.

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