No one cares about my old humiliations
but they go on dragging through my sleep
like a string of empty tin cans rattling
behind an abandoned car.
— Edward Hirsch
I sat outside today on my porch, waiting for a hot flash to pass, letting the cool wind hit the sweat under my Black Flag sweatshirt. In a span of a few minutes, I saw a drug dealer straddle a driveway in his car, then go sit angrily on the stairs in a breezeway, waiting for his money to show up. I could see him through the broken window of the home he waited at. After waiting a while in frustration, he then got back into his shitty Toyota (he works on his own engine, I can tell), and as he sat down, he pulled out a bottle of liquor. I’m sure he took a swig before he pulled away. I half-expected him to return with the rest of the liquor and a lighter to torch the place, but that’s where my head goes in watching such things.
I started to get cold. The family next door always seems to be doing laundry, dragging their basket to and from the car every day. It was barely raining and a woman had her umbrella out.
My neighbor’s old dog watches the scene with me, peering through the slats of their house like a eery ghost.
I was walking my dog up my hill earlier today and I saw a couple get out of their car. The man held his girlfriend’s hand and they shuffled these tiny steps across the street. I think they live in one of the illegal mother-in-law cottages across the way. I imagined he was just bringing her back from getting an abortion, that he keeps her hidden away, impregnates her, and then makes her get abortions, over and over again, and that’s why they were walking so slow. This is the crazy truth about my brain, that I make this shit up to entertain myself.
The sky was beautiful tonight, all grey with hints of white, and crows and ravens you can only capture a silhouette of with your camera, flying south. I’m not even going to try. At 5 pm I couldn’t tell if the rain was falling or the leaves of the Sycamores were rustling, turns out it was both.