out of the "separation anxiety" phase by the time they turned five or six Mine seems to get worse
the older I get)
Scream, squeal
some kind of dog noise from below
Or human noise
Can't tell
I sleep with intentional noise
in my room at night
the t.v. or a stereo on
because sounds that I can't easily identify become sinister
I invent horror stories
out of every bonk
or creak
or click-clack
My head is a swirl of horror (The reason I never did acid: Didn't want to let what's in there out!)
As a youth
afraid of the dark
I would replay Flintstones episodes in my head
until I fell to sleep
I never really liked the Flintstones but I'd watched them enough
that I'd internalized the plots
(only three channels on the t.v. back then)
Once asleep, however
I was at my brain's mercy It had very little
Now, older, I still have to distract myself at night
to keep from hearing noises
Keep my head in some happy narrative instead of letting it write its own plots its own mysteries
I try to be a happy guy try to have a good time but something in there something in my head is pushing its way out
Or, all the horror of the world that I try to ignore
try to block out
seeps in
whether I want it to or not
Maybe that's what all the horror in my head really is:
The World
3. Next day
Sitting by the door to the Scott Joplin room Don't think the book store I want to hit opens for another hour
Meanwhile, Mariah is off
to another class
We're supposed to meet back here at noon
Now I've got an hour to kill before I can shop KILL KILL KILL!!! SHOP SHOP SHOP!!!
Again I'm imagining
all the terrible things
that could happen to our kids while we're gone
I never sleep very well
in hotel rooms
People in the halls
making loud noises always startle me
out of my too-light sleep SLEEP SLEEP SLEEP!!!
Carpet patterns creep me out
They seem to be sending me messages that I don't quite understand
How long should I sit here
(by the Scott Joplin room) before I get up and go? GO GO GO!!!
I hate fashion
(probably because I'm too poor to participate)
CLONES CLONES CLONES!!!
I hate seeing people
who look like people I know It's weird
I remember being really stoned one time and going to a dance club
the Up-Front in Portland
and thinking I saw a friend of mine I called out to the guy
but it turned out to be not-him (CLONE)
About ten minutes later
I saw the same guy
but I was stoned, remember and yelled out again
The third time I saw the guy he didn't look very happy to see me I don't think I said anything to him that time
but I had to restrain myself
Moral: I shouldn't get stoned and go dancing
It's kind of a personal moral I guess
I wonder if it's going to be raining while I'm walking around from shop to shop
The sky looks grey
from where I'm sitting (Scott Joplin room
just outside it)
SIT SIT SIT!!!
People walking the halls
Are classes over?
Or is it just a mass bathroom break?
Noise from people milling about
just around the corner
from where I'm sitting
Wonder how hard it would be to find a soda pop (Joplin)
Don't know why
but yesterday and today
I've had this superiority complex thing going on
where I think most people
are shallow and unintelligent
Watching t.v. last night made it worse Watching people walk back and forth while I sit here writing
(S. J. r)
and hearing bits of their conversations and seeing their mannerisms
and movements
ain't helping
Mariah agreed to leave the "event" last night up on the 12th floor
because she was afraid
I was going to get into a fight
I suppose she knew what she was doing
Must be about 10:00 am by now Time to shop
Consume
(SCOTT JOPLIN!)
4.
Epilogue:
I found Howl About this dude: Richard F. Yates is a poet, author, and artist living in southwestern Washington State in the U.S.A. He is married, has two daughters, and works at Washington State University in Vancouver, Washington. His written work has appeared in such places as: Mad Swirl, The Salmon Creek Journal, Words-Myth, Yankee Pot Roast, Counterexample Poetics, The Salal Review, Word Riot, and Vision? Nary! Magazine. He was a featured presenter and workshop instructor at the Raymond Carver Writing Festival in 2008 and 2009, poetry editor for The Salmon Creek Journal, and is one of the founding editors of Breadline Press.