Borderline

“First Day on the Ward”

 I answer survey questions, but I want you should write in the paper for me.

 
She is ambiguously ancient. Could be seventy. Could be ninety.
Grey hair bramble. Low chin wattle. Wall eyes.
Veins bright blue as the medical bracelet. 
    
    Begin. 
 
Do you ever have thoughts racing through your head?
Never? Rarely? Some of the time? Most of the time? All of the time?

I used to work Macy’s. Fifth Avenue perfume section.

The man would say you have time to lean have time to clean. Never stand still.

Good bottles do not have dust. I had best brown shoes.

Shiny like mints but so comfy.

 
I’ll check rarely. Next question. In the week before you came to the hospital
did you get along with your family members? Always? Most of the time?
Half of the time? Rarely? Never?

My Herman is dead. Eighteen years now. Same camp as me,

but we never met ‘til I live in Philadelphia. On South Street.

In front of deli we would sit. He bought me spritz. Same camp

for three years and never met till Leon’s. Funny world huh?

My children are grown but I see them for all the time

they come on holidays. My Sarah I love.

But she doesn’t listen. Like she wants

I should be red in the face.

 
Eyes flush. Lip folds between strong teeth. Breathes slow.
I check most of the time. Next question.
Do you ever see things or hear things that aren’t there?

Ach, what I smell in the city. On the subway. Stairs.

I can’t use. The elevator. Like boxcar. Like someone

sick out of both sides at once. Here, I like. Smells like new

books. Tomorrow I leave. They take me to home. I am too old

to be here. Not like these people. Not head sick. Just old.

Hands nest in lap. Turns loose wedding band round thin finger. 

Next question.

Have you ever thought you had special powers?

Special powers?

 
Like you’re invisible. Or you can see through walls. Or talk to god.

Oh no. People say yes to this?

You learn from these questions?

This thing helps people?

 
Thank her for her time. Wish her a nice day. Note to self.
Sometimes.
Rarely.
Never.

“50 seconds in the life of a killer”

We did it for fun. It was fun to see a system that has so much power and control lose it
in a second. That day…was the most fun I have had in my entire life.

— Kayson Pearson at his trial for the rape and murder of Romona Moore

1. She’s in the basement.
2. Need to go to the store.
3. Garbage bags.
4. Breakfast at the diner.
5. Treat myself to extra bacon.
6. Take my time 7. I can’t stop smiling.
8. First the duct tape. 9. Then the knife. 10. I never take
my shirt off. 11. Brought the Playstation downstairs.
12. Knife again. 13. Cigarette down to the filter. 14. Flick. 15. Cry
all you want. 16. No one is listening.
17. Turn up the music. 18. At my arraignment,
note for the plaintiff. Your daughter’s tied up in a Brooklyn basement.
19. Sing it. 20. I said sing it.
21. Wire cutters 22. Duct tape. 23. Do you want
to see how strong I am? 24. Barbell. 25. Hard day’s work.
26. Sleep tight. 27. The sun through my window.
28. Need to go to the store. 29. Carton of cigarettes.
30. More bags. 31. In the aisle. 32. Something’s
not right. 33. The rows of detergent.34. Something’s
not right. 35. Cunt cashier. 36. What are you looking at?
37. Just leave. 38. On the sidewalk. 39. Something’s not right.
40. Can’t breathe. 41. Why can’t. 42. I feel. 43. My hands? 44. Almost
home. 45. You’re gonna get it now. 46. Why won’t. 47. My hands. 48.
Stop 49. Sound of the sealant pealing away as I open the door.

[Author’s Note: “50 seconds in the life of a killer” is after “50 Years in the Career of an Aspiring Thug” by Susanne Wise. The italicized portions are from Notorious B.I.G.’s “Hypnotize”.]

“Gomer Pyle’s rifle writes a love letter”

No way you had the granite heart
they sharpen here.

Should have been spit out
and sent home. A slab of fat
not worth it’s gristle.

But your dumb luck got you joining
the big green killing machine
when it was running low on parts.

They beat you with bars
of soap until you were
born again hard.

You believed them
when they said this is all
just a bad dream.

Your eyes become cannon balls.
Devil dog snarl replaces
the jelly donut smile.

I see this all the time. The water
harden in your veins. Start to wonder
what everybody looks like dead.

You have become
an animal mother
praying for war.

The killer instinct
is not an apple
you can unbite.

So I sing your bullets
so straight you can line
a bed sheet by them.

Let you think it’s you
that shreds paper enemies.
Whisper promises

that hollowing out
the Drill Sergeant
will be just as easy.

They made you
a time bomb. I’m just
shortening the fuse.

Tonight your voice is clear
as a shell casing dropped
into a shallow puddle of water.

I know there is not much consolation
in knowing your death will save
at least as many lives as it cost.

So I will tell you this—
you look like royalty standing there
with your fist clenched behind your back.

Now show them
what one motivated Marine
and his rifle can do.

Finish turning
your face into a skull
and kiss me goodbye.

You were a perfect curvy section eight.