you awake and it’s nine past your time. nothing to do but drive where disturbed people stand by
the side of the road holding hands with themselves and staring at the
headlights as they eat the gravel, walk into the field muttering about odometers and not caring,
splashing neon lights on their stones and watering hydrangeas till sick rants
of madmen cease only when no one listens, water flows sideways when nobody looks and
the sky is yellow when dylan sings that it is.
Walter Bjorkman is a writer, poet and photographer from Brooklyn, NY, now residing in the mountains of Pennsylvania. His poems and short stories have appeared or are forthcoming in issues of Scrambler, Poets & Artists, O&S, THIS Literary Magazine, Wilderness House Literary Review, A-Minor, Blue Print Review, amphibi.us, Metazen, Dark Chaos, OCHO and MiPoesias. His collection of short stories, Elsie’s World, was published in January 2011. He is Associate Editor of THRUSH Poetry Journal and THRUSH Press.