(Youre home and youve been home)
Youre home and youve been home and youre still wearing your jeans and theres a
corner in your living room you cant get out of without restarting everything. You cant
pet your Labrador retriever so you dont. In the restroom the mirror reflects nothing.
You can kick the tub all night, your feet wont bleed.
And youre comfortable on the couch even if you are still wearing your jeans. Youre
not concerned with the void in your living room corner, hope the jumping spiders
crawl in there, hope the jumping spiders die in there.
If you never leave home the nightclubs will never open, the exposition will mind itself,
the man with something of a sideburn who betrays you will stay loyal.
If you never leave, two bystanders will keep their lives and their compact cars, the
prostitutes will get a night off because they cannot manifest.
Theres a gun in your hand, your jeans are on, cash in its pockets for the whores and all
you can touch is the door.
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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 47 | Spring 2016