bukiiii

i went out to the back steps to smoke a stale cigarette. my head pounded from the cheap wine. there was a dry grey lump on the concrete. i poked it with a kitchen match. it crumbled apart. packed mouse fur and a tiny yellow skull. a splinter of a jawbone. some owl sat on the roof last night. it kept the meat and puked up the rest. i flicked the skull into the weeds. it landed next to a rusted hubcap.

i bought a roll of cheap foam. the yellow backing tears wrong. glue sticks to my thumb. i jam it into the warped wood. the window frame is rotting. October wind shakes the glass. i press the strip down the gap. it barely covers the crack. i sit on the edge of the bed. a draft hits my neck. the cold air still gets in. it blows through the keyhole. it scatters ash across the linoleum.

there are six envelopes on the table. two have red lettering. the clinic wants fifty bucks for the tooth. the gas company says tomorrow is the deadline. my bank account holds three dollars. the math is a bad joke. i pick up a yellow pencil. i press the point into the final notice. i push down until the wood splits and the black lead snaps. outside, a garbage truck groans down the alley. i sweep the papers onto the floor. a fat fly lands on the rim of my empty coffee mug.

the oak is green and full of knots. the heavy axe drops with a dull thud. a sharp crack bounces off the aluminum siding. yellow grain tears open like raw meat. splinters fly into the wet grass. it takes four hours of swinging. four hours to feed the iron stove. just to keep the front room warm. the shoulders always give out first. the blade sticks in the chopping block. a stray cat sits on the fence. there is one flat beer left on the porch step.

i shove the wire brush up the flue. black dust falls into my eyes. my shoulders cramp in the narrow brick. i keep scraping the tar. the landlord is waiting for the bill. creosote packs under my fingernails. it won't wash out for a week. i climb down the aluminum ladder. light a cheap cigarette in the driveway. my chest rattles when i inhale. i cough and spit a hard black lump. it slides down the side of my van.

the floor vent rattled all night. i went down to the basement. pulled the cardboard filter from the furnace slot. it was packed with thick grey fuzz. stray hairs and flakes of dead skin. months of us breathing in this cheap rental. i held the mesh under the bare bulb. a dried moth was stuck in the folds. i dropped it in the trash can with the empty bottles. shoved a new white filter in. the gas burner caught with a heavy thump. blowing the smell of scorched dust through the floorboards.

the wind comes right through the dry cracked putty. it hits the back of my neck like a wet knife. the radiator just hisses and spits brown water. i roll up yesterday's sports page and jam it against the glass. i put strips of silver tape over that. the landlord says heat costs extra. i sit back down on the mattress. the tape peels off the paint. the paper moves a little in the dark.

the wind hits the glass. i open the pantry. behind a can of sliced peaches there are little black pellets. they look like burnt wild rice. a mouse came in from the Chicago wind. it chewed up my paper plates and a roll of cheap towels to make a nest in the dark. i ignore the droppings and grab the peaches. a shred of white towel is stuck to the can.

it rained all afternoon. i walked into the bar. took off my thick coat and threw it on the stool next to me. it must have weighed twenty pounds. water dripped from the sleeves onto the linoleum. the whole place started smelling like a wet sheep. heavy and sour. you buy a thing like that to stay warm. instead you just carry the swamp around with you. the bartender slid a beer across the wood. steam rose off the grey wool. i dropped a match into the puddle.

i'm making soup. i have a turnip and a dull knife. i stand at the formica counter. i press the blade into the dirty skin. i have to put my whole weight on the handle. the metal gets stuck in the hard white center. i lean down. my elbow clicks. the knife twists in my sweaty palm. it slips off the root. it slices the knuckle of my left thumb. a drop of blood wells up. the turnip rolls off the edge. it rests on the yellow linoleum.

i stand by the window. the old Ford is leaking again. it leaves a thick black stain on the cracked concrete right by the empty trash cans. the autumn rain starts coming down. it hits the grease and turns purple and green. i drink my cold coffee. the landlord will bitch about the mess. the water pushes the slick down the driveway. it flows out into the street over a flattened cigarette pack.

the landlady never prunes the tree. it dropped its load into the wet yard four days ago. now it smells like cheap wine back here. sick and sour in the tall grass. i should have picked them. but i don't own a ladder. or a pie pan. so the yellow jackets get them. they crawl through the brown mush, getting drunk and mean. they keep stinging the neighbor's dog. the mower will choke on the pulp. i put out my cigarette on the railing. a fat wasp drowns in a bruised core.

the radiator clanks. it is October and freezing. i look out the dirty window. a flock of geese is up there cutting through the pale sky in a long v. they make a hell of a racket. honking like stuck traffic. something in the dropping temperature tells their small brains to get out. they just know when a place goes dead. i take a swallow of warm beer and watch them fly over the liquor store roof.

the pawn shop on Sunset went under. they covered the shattered glass with cheap plywood. the guy who did it drove the screws in crooked. the wind off the street hit the board. it made a hollow slapping sound. nobody was left inside to listen. there was only bare linoleum and rat shit. i ran my hand over the rough grain. i got a small splinter in my palm. i dug it out with my teeth. i spit it onto the sidewalk. a crushed beer can rolled past my shoe.

the radiator hissed and i pulled over. it was just a dirt shoulder. the mud was baked solid. huge tractor treads were gouged into the earth. the corn was already gone. they stripped it down to ugly yellow stubs. a dog barked a long way off. i sat on the hood and drank a lukewarm beer. the metal was hot through my jeans. i stared at the heavy tire tracks. a crow dropped down into the rut. it started pecking at a dead moth.

the radiator died at three in the morning. i stand by the cracked window. it is raining on the street. i pick up the wool coat from the floor. it smells like stale beer and a wet dog. i drag it over my shivering arms. the lining is cold and damp against my skin. my teeth chatter. i button the coat up to the neck. the thick wool doesn't make me warm. it just pulls my shoulders down toward the floorboards. i shove my hands into the pockets. my fingers feel three pennies and a losing betting slip.

it rained until four a.m. now i walk down to the transit bench. my work boots weigh ten pounds each. the cold yard dirt turned to thick paste and it clings to the rubber soles. i scrape my right foot against the curb. a chunk falls into the wet gutter. a stray dog watches me from across the avenue. it has one bad eye. the bus is late. i light a cigarette and look down. half a field is stuck to my feet.

the landlord won't buy a new latch. i am tying the broken gate to a rusted iron post. the orange plastic string is cheap. it frays at the ends like dead hair. i pull it tight. the cord cuts deep into my bare hands. a thin line of blood shows up under the dirt. the rotted wood still sags toward the street. i tie off a sloppy knot. i wipe my palm on my pants and leave the blood on the plastic.

i pushed my thumb into the stranger's cheek. i pressed down hard, packing the concealer in. smoothing over the cold, sunken skin. he didn't complain. i peeled off the sweaty rubber gloves. dropped them in the trash. clocked out and drove back to my rented room. i scrubbed my hands with cheap soap. the formaldehyde never washes off. it stays trapped deep under the cuticles. i opened a can of beer. brought it to my mouth. smelled the dead guy on my own fingers. a moth kept hitting the bare lightbulb.

i look out the kitchen window. they used to run coal trains through the yard. heavy cars shaking the glass at night. now it's just rust and tall weeds. i don't know where the coal went. maybe it burned up in Pittsburgh. i light a cigarette. a stray dog walks down the dead tracks. it stops to sniff a crushed beer can. somebody dumped a mattress on the rails. the metal springs are poking out. it just sits there in the dirt.