18″X36″ acrylic on canvas
In the Bathroom
I drove to work today in the rain,
I could hear open guitar strings and distant piano pounds wait for me.
In a reverb of infinite cloud, I was alone.
I saw rain come in the doorways and over stepping-stones.
With mist down on crosswalk and over rain coats,
I saw myself crying in a parking lot under an umbrella of water and loss.
I saw a man come up to me, grab the back of my head
And jab a gun in my mouth.
It felt so good.
He brought me into a public bathroom and shot me,
I could see everything.
With my head on the ground,
The hand soap had a plastic smell and the floor held a puddle of piss.
I was so calm the very sight my eyes made my muscles relax
In that shattered glass,
Lying in my own red bath.
I will always remember the rain, it was leaking into the bathroom,
The tiles were a cool pulse to the soft bludgeon.
Now after this,
I was waking up and there were people standing over me,
I was alone, by their dirty shoes,
Catching up on some sleep.