JACK

the fog comes not
on pitter patter feet like
that kid who ran through
the office last week then
poked my chair – it is
silent like
disease or death and
cocoons you in its web
we are the fly
who’s sucked
dry before we
know it – I walk my

dog in the
fog and we
once saw lights! – I thought
groovy what a
Buddha-like
enlightenment – then
remembered we were
walking by the highway.

-Ryn Gargulinski, 09/2006