Crank (Crank 1)

or a bad reaction to Mom’s sloppy Joes.

But it wasn’t.

Clear Blue Easy

I Went Through

the next few days

pretty much like

a zombie.

People wanted crank.

I sold it to them.

Teachers wanted homework.

I gave it to them.

Jake wanted to razz me.

I let him.

Mom wanted to know what was wrong.

I had nothing to say.

The monster called to me too.

For once,

I refused to answer.

Friday night, I crawled into bed,

sank way, way low.

Submerged myself

in a world of watery dreams:

Tears. An ocean of tears.

And a baby, a boy,

afloat in that salty sea.

He cried out to me.

Could I swim away solo?

Would I drown saving him?

Saturday

I spent the day: