Open Throat

by Henry Hoke

the people build a fire some nights and I have to stay far away from the glow but they haven’t done that in months they’re afraid of the dryness like I’m afraid of the dryness

I want to thank my people but I know if they see me it’ll fuck up our relationship

it’s okay old is fine I’m old because I’m not dead

fire is the only future

I feel more like a person than ever because I’m starting to hate myself

they know that the photos mean even after they leave they’ll still be here

the carpet is ruined already by the shards of lamp so I get down off my sofa and scratch and scratch at it and try to claw words into the floor to explain myself but when I climb back onto the sofa and look down at my work it’s jagged strips with no order or meaning someday I’ll be able to write what you’re reading maybe in santa fey with little slaughter telling every word to her

this is not about need no this is want it’s a terrible choice but I’m making it just like a person