killgineering

and just like that
it begins again
almost on cue

and he reaches
with his invertebrate touch
his mollusk fingers
weak

but able
to grip the revolver
squeeze the trigger

the hammer comes down
and it goes "click"

no matter how much liquor
he pours down his throat
he cannot fall asleep

stress level
genetics
bad memories
mental instability

or dogs

"bark bark bark"
"click click click"

the bullets are
standing upright
in a small box on the kitchen table
neatly arranged

"feed their babies to the sun"
he scrawls on the white board attached to the refrigerator door

pausing,

contemplating,
the felt tip of his marker resting on
the board

"remember to pick up milk",
he writes

"bark bark"
"click click"

the living room walls are illuminated by the television static

and it really is much prettier to watch than any game show or sit com or sporting event

scratching his forehead
with the business end of the six-shooter

"bark"
"click"

he tilts his head to the side
gazing out the window
glaring

the neighbors dog
"sadie"
is there
barking incessantly

at nothing

an enigmatic ruckus
a foreign language
a strange pattern of noise

like morse code

maybe sadie is asking to be euthanized

...maybe sadie just wants me to kill.

berkowitz
had nights like this...