Preparation

I have this thing that I do
after taking hot showers in the dark
during the colder nights
in winter.

Standing on the rubber mat in the tub,
I stick my hand out
into the dark
onto the cool marble wall
to fumble for the switch.

I pause there for a second
before turning it on.

With the age of my house,
I always wonder
for just a second
if I’ll get electrocuted,
fall and hit my head,
be found hours later,
bloody, burnt, and with a gape,
the same way some people
see themselves falling asleep at the wheel,
running through a guard rail,
into a large body of water, or off a rocky cliff
while they’re driving along,
fine and fully awake.
You, too?

Just before I flip the switch on,
to avoid death by stumble,
I make sure to close my eyes tight first
so the shouting light
warms my retinal nerve
slowly, right through my lids,

and I swear,
in those throbbing seconds
I can see the blood cells flowing
in all of its tiny paths,
reverberating, oscillating,
jumping around
like all the cells are in each other’s places
all at once wanting to get back,
everything in its right place.

When I prepare my retina in this way,
there’s no pain or shock
when I open my eyes.

– John LeMasney

 

Butch

We stood far enough away
so that all I could see
in the corrugated aluminum doghouse
was the reflection of the sunlit yard
on his eyes.

“He won’t bite,” she was saying,
“He’s a good dog!”

A Shepherd-Doberman mix,
lean and black,
usually barking
at the end of his chain,
near a red sign with white letters:
Beware of Dog
but today he was quiet.

“Just don’t be afraid,
and he’ll like you”

I decided to try,
and as I went closer
the eyes didn’t move,
I could just hear his breath
over the cut grass breeze.

A low growl began,
and slowly increased in size,
like shifting gears,
with quick intakes of air between,
until he jumped,

and I jumped and turned,
(so fast it hurt my knee.)
He caught me for a second,
but I broke away,
and I ran and I cried.
She followed me around,
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!
You alright? I’m so sorry!”
Her parents ran out,
and I gripped my pants,
cause it hurt so bad,
and they asked me to go inside,
so I did,
and they said they wanted to see my behind,
where I got bit,
and I said no,
but they insisted,
they needed to know,
and I said I’d be okay,

but they grabbed me,
and pulled down my pants,
and pulled down my shorts,
and I put my hands over my face,
and they said I was okay.

But I wasn’t okay.

– John LeMasney