I live an agitated silence
like a cat that’s spotted a dog.
When we live our lives on the edge, with no regard for how we conduct ourselves or how we treat our mates, it’s no surprise that consequences usually follow.
Wandering endless bleached earth.
My father’s funeral was on a Tuesday, on my mother’s birthday.
“You’re late, Isaac.”
Halloween night 1955: a Volkswagen Beetle hit nine-year-old Erika on Decarie Boulevard, corner Monkland Avenue. Notre-Dame-de-Grâce borough.