Home Poem by Jack Reynolds

If I remember back far enough, I can see fluorescent yellows and spirits and anonymity. The allegro of the room pulsated through my jugular, and vibrant partygoers quibbled smiles and shouts of ecstasy as we departed into oblivion.

When I had arrived, Pride came and sat on my lap. I found her galling. I roughed her up.

I ran away. Oh, the thought too much to bear! My pace increased with the growing day, and before long I was sprinting. And when I wanted to turn around I couldn't; I'd forgotten how to stop.

I found myself alone. I perceived my limited world, and began to eat myself. It was funny, the clamor that it made.

O Villainy, murder, Catholicism! Why is nothing sanctioned? The night rose with the howling of the hallway, and when the lights went out I was sure I could hear them screaming.

In the morning, the smell of anemones saturated the sight of the hanged angel. Arbitrary law sent me to exile. I smelled dew as the stone ceilings laughed from above, and the mice whispered rumor beside the coffee tables.

I'm sad, I think.