A Fiction, Brought On By The Stress Of The Season

The increasing frequency of those little shocks

when I touched something metal

didn't strike me as out of the ordinary.



When the static from the radio

began to sync up with

my movements,



I told myself it was coincidence.



The brand new light bulbs blew

when I flipped the switch

and I complained about the



shoddy manufacturer.



I'll admit that all these things

together were making me a little

curious.



I whistled at a dying, flickering

fluorescent light and brought

it back up to full intensity.



I changed pitch and

was able to make the brightness

go up and down.


When I started to think I was controlling traffic lights

with my mind, I became distressed.

I sneezed and the elevator I was riding in shuddered to a halt.


I briefly considered telling somebody,


My wife, my mother, some bum in the street.

But at the same time I relished this secret thing I had going on.

Maybe I was taking too many vitamins like that fellow from Albemuth.



When the vending machine blew up


I turned and ran.

I figured nobody coulda seen it.

It was mid morning on some back road, no truckers, even.


This was nothing new.


I'd experienced electrical phenomena before.

Back when we were kids we'd get all jacked up

on cough medicine.


Actifed DM had a peculiar way of dissociation


that made everybody think they were contolling the weather

but this just crept up on me

so subtly.


I wasn't getting high anymore.

Hadn't even thought about it.

But here it was,


Clear as day.


When I shook people's hands

I could feel what they were about to feel.

Gave some fool directions and tasted what he was going to have for lunch.


There was no physical sensation


to let me know it was coming on,

some days I just got up and knew

exactly what you were thinking.


My nose starting bleeding

when I brought that plane down,

by accident of course.


I done led them fuckin' hikers

to the bodies of their friends

just by reading the paper.


and you thought I was going crazy.


You thought I needed attention.

I thought you needed tension.

I'm glad you were in attendance.

Dear Client

You ask me a question and then ignore me

when I tell you the answer.

You ask me the question again

and then ignore me

when I tell you the answer again.

I begin to suspect you're asking

not because you want to know

but

because you can.

You rephrase the question,

ignore my answer,

and then turn and ask someone else.

In my mind's eye,

I rush across the room

and push you through the window.

As you fall five stories,

I shout the answer after you,

but you hit the pavement

before you can ask again.