Sixteen.

In My Dreams
001. Father

In my dreams, I see
father is a bee - buzzing
nuisance, stinging threat.

Fifteen.

You have the right to remain silent.


Stop that. I know you are just trying to scare me. Or make me laugh. Either way, you are failing.

Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

I have heard this all before. On television. When perps are arrested by cops with plastic badges and cotton suits. You can't really be arresting me.

You have the right to an attorney.


Okay, the gig is up. Who paid you to do this? To slap these child cuffs on my wrists and drag me out of this bar?

If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you.


Who are you? I know you aren't a real officer. Are you an actor looking for any chance to perform for pay? And why won't these handcuffs unlatch, like all the other pairs I've bought from Walmart do?

Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?


No, I don't! What the hell is going on? Where did you get the car with the twinkling lights - red, white, blue, like a jumbled American flag - and the wailing siren and the bulletproof screen meant to protect you from me?  What did I do?

You know what you did. And I need you to sign this Miranda card.


Actually, I don't know. And I'm not signing anything as long as these silver rings hold my wrists behind my back.

Fourteen.

Shutting everything off,
shutting everything down.

There is peace in these bones
and it courses through my fingers
as words tumble,
cartwheel, pirouette
across blank pages.

No sound can
unravel me,
no smile can
distract me,
no flash can
unnerve me,
no pain can
disturb me.

There is peace in these bones
that wait to be useful,
wait to have purpose, meaning,
wait for thoughts to flow
and flood and drown, drown, drown.

Shutting everything off,
shutting everything down.

Thirteen.

What I wouldn't do for

a
       glimmer                    of                  
                                                             brilliance,
a
       shimmer                   of                  
                                                             genius,
a
       flicker                      of                
                                                             creativity.

I mean,
I wouldn't do some things,
like kill
or steal
or erase
precious
memories
with my
family.

Maybe I should have started with
what I would do.