DA Powell
in the stanley kubrick movie of your life, you
are an isolated man
going slowly mad in the drunken pillory of the
snow
chasing a little version of your self with an
axe
because thatÕs what every hour is doing: chasing you
vexing, isnÕt it, how often youÕve tried to
write your story
but the apparitions wonÕt let you, and the
bottle calls
from the ballroom, whispers of every dead
season
at the overlook hotel. it seems youÕve played this
role before
why canÕt you just have closure? itÕs a horror movie,
stupid
the villain returns: you are the villain:
any second-last thoughts?