a perfect percentage sign, drawn in RED chalk, on a concrete wall

a toy block castle made of interlocking pieces, pieces that hurt when you step on them with the, in my case wide, fleshy part of your foot between your heel and the balls of your toes; a stack of old compact discs with dust and scratches sandwiched unto themselves; a nearly filled black journal with a binding that was recently repaired with shoe sole adhesive; a lens blurred; a desk corner that i told you to watch yourself on and that your thigh met with the most resistance possible even if that is an asinine hyperbole; a moonset that gives rise to a squeaky bedframe despite being boxspringless; a perfect percentage sign, drawn in RED chalk, on a concrete wall; an exact duplication of your smile from eighteen months and seven days ago; a hypoglycemic index of some nonsensical amount and pronunciation; a manila folder that has a tab full of annoying creases that look like hand lines (you will have two children); a switching of window treatments; a 60 mL plastic cup, plastic that smells like plastic; an overabundance of frayed fibers in our midst; a simple lack of simple patience; a teetering array of free vases donated by the defunct florist; a day-old everything bagel; a warmed forearm spot on the surface of a particle board desk.

 

mis-[word]

[red ink on the back of mis-spaced paragraphs.  then the lights come on upstairs.  corn flakes and chocolate, index cards and action figures.  hairs ripped from follicles like mis-placed staves in a grand earthen art project.  illumination.  satisfaction.  i have found both and my awakeness should not (please, don't) be read as an example of uncaring.  anything but.  buy more, save less.  no, reverse that.  no, sorry, reverse that again.  i am well versed in the gospels of the purposely (purposefully) mis-leading.  dust on uncovered things plays itself out like logic in the halls of the suits on the take.  out of character, out of sync.  still, however, in a grave and directly measured line.  Pyrex, heated and heated again and again, still tells me what i need to contribute.  Grand Tetons and murky notes that will go unfinished for quite some time.  mis-use, to be quite sure.  crumbs like dried mucus.  compressed staples like miniature sculpture.  the questions of scale were raised and realized at an earlier point this evening.  no, last evening.  no, this evening.  bishop takes rook and queen takes knight.  irrefutable like this sore throat i have engendered from a complete lack of proper rest.  retire for the evening.  but first, i really need to check my lottery numbers.  the drawing, of course, was a scant moment ago.  bottle caps and bicycle tubes.  just thinking about what is before me because it is all that i can do.  this faulty genome.  that erroneous exposure.  nature and nurture and backwards again.  a dozen or so miles of nylon, lashed to aluminum posts, erect as barracks' flagpoles.  full mast and full speed ahead, well on into the properly implemented, the apropos position.  live long and...]

 
shooting his wife while their son looks.  how grisly it all was.