Stephen Scott Whitaker
Adam prefers black
when old man bruise is home.
Stress. Stress. Adam prefers to vanish into inky yard.
Vodka nips, cigarettes, Dear Old Dad. Stress makes skin sink.
Stress makes sweat stink.
Outside a tree scrapes glass: A tick a tuck-a tick a tuck-a tick-a-
flake & rake, flake & rake.
a cheap Halloween tube.
Ease back door. Long leaping leg.
Into the yard. Two steps and out of the bled light.
Duck behind the shrubs.
Watch. Play. Pretend.
Call of Duty stalk.
Armed with what?
Stolen beers, wrinkled pack of Newports.
Translated from the small voice inside:
Vanish from love. Let it hurt and mangle.
Be hidden in the yardsafe,
The world won’t hurt you if you are dressed in its clothes.
Escape, escape, escape.