I remember the air we lived in;
the color of hyper, aqueous thin and glinting life
but shake the razor globe, upend it
and we were jim-jammed, shaky,
unfounded, ungrounded, built of fear
that made us laugh, that made us pray.

Marathon Day, a Rosie woman cheated and we were preyed
upon. “Forget her, look at that.” Her ass in
a swatch, foot atop parking meter > NO FEAR,
you headed for her, “Hello death,” you returned a[life].
“No phone number yet; I’m staying.” So shaky
with a taste of her, needing to slake, slake, slake it.

You completed her triangle, another man felt it.
He was out and you were in. Who was prey
and who was preyer? She keyed
my family’s psyche with her visit. Crazy in
crazy out. She changed your life
all right. She was yours; you put a face on your fear.

Nine people are dead, picked off by fear
from my dining room table. We sat around it;
I see us all, the color of seasons, bursting life.
One by one, you all left the table and with deadly resolve (pray
for them) you relieved yourself from spite, hell the hurt in
your soul bones… you were number 7, Shaky.

You went to Florida and killed yourself, Shaky.
That’s not really a vacation. Finding her there your fear
was made real. REPLACED!… you must have sat in
your Days Inn, stood up, put wallet on bed… then it
began. You had your new shirt on, not to pray
but to die. (“I just saw BREATHLESS and had to upgrade my shirt/my life.”)

Did you think, “Let me look over the edge (of life).
A peek.” I wish you had made the roof, Shaky.
The view/lights may have hugged you, altered you. Sparked prayer.
The fire stairs offered concrete, height, windows and fear.
Did you just want to peer out… get close to it?
“Over in seconds, fear, hurt, loss, Dad… OUT!”


After I was told I was in shock… aww God, why? Reverse it! [life] I write this as I’m sleeping…
               …dreamy place…are you here? [fear]
Or was this light put out when you hit? [Shaky/John] when it went black. [it]
Your brain splattered 8 feet on this light side [pray], police report said so: Male, 30s, wearing
               jeans and a cool shirt.” [in]

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash

Kevin Foster McCarthy

Kevin Foster McCarthy is an East and West Coast writer and actor. He is also a painter... of houses. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in TofuInk, Soundings East, and Molecule, among other journals.