Crank (Crank 1)

go for it. Adam, Bree, and

the monster were inextricable

friends.

A Couple of Toots

Skeletal lines, jaundice yellow,

evil little breezes up the nose.

One

inhale, awesome, mean, tiny

hammer blows to the brain, and I

didn’t care who knew that

I was high,

(well, okay, I preferred clueless cops)

not Dad, who would be home

soon. He’d want one or

two

himself. Not the people next door,

who I’m pretty sure kept an ear

to the wall, waiting to see if

I would fly,

or attempt, like our wingless lynx,

to defy all instinct and natural

law, ball up courage, count to

three

and crest the edge in one mighty

leap. Or maybe she did just fall.

I wonder, as I wonder if

I,

locked in a cage of dreamless sleep,

a place where only the monster

can drop you so hard,