Glass (Crank 2)

room floor, plop down beside him,

close my eyes. Tread a pool

of murky water, dreams gone

stagnant, or brewing dementia.

Somewhere I hear a baby gurgling,

giggling, cooing. Somewhere I hear

a baby fussing. Crying. Screeching…

But I can’t wake up. Don’t want

to leave this place so very near

sleep. I have to. Can’t. Have to.

Won’t. No, I’ll deal with it

when I come up for air. Up from

this place I’ve finally settled into.

Sleep. Deep, deep sleep. What is

that noise? It won’t stop, like an

alarm clock without a snooze button.

Suddenly I’m ratcheted awake,

roughly set on my feet, pushed

out the front door. Mom’s

crazed face parts the cerebral mist.

This is the last straw, Kristina.

What’s going on? My brain

feels like mush. Behind Mom,

I see Jake, holding Hunter,

who’s howling like he’s

just been bitten. “Wha…?”

You are leaving. And Hunter

is staying. Do not come back

here until you’re completely

sober. And don’t even think