the torture goes on
I can hear the sounds of it
so I put up a wall
between me and it
and think of other things

it’s not like I haven’t tried to kill the bastard
who wields the voodoo doll and the long pins
I’ve looked everywhere

he eludes my recon
as if he were something I made up

in the night
all seems all right
until pain arrives
like in black SUVs
abducting innocence
driving across borders
to dungeons I can’t find

the heavyweights of science and religion
let me down

my backup
as well intentioned as myself
piss into the wind

I send them home with dry pants
grateful for their futile efforts

I send a plea for help

by carrier pigeon
to the Hall of Justice League

aim the spotlight with the bat stencil
at the clouds

send Lassie out
with her miraculous barking

a transparent arsenal at my feet
I think of wrapping my hands
around the throat of the invisible intruder
who creeps into our lives
dispensing a havoc
that becomes so mundane
I’m able to mix mortar

lay bricks

raise my wall

and think of other things

like that hedge I keep forgetting
the one where I can
hack off the useless limbs

snatch up the branches

fold them two times

three times

straining my forearms

so they’ll go in the bag

without ripping it to shreds


Bob Hudson is taking his talents to South Beach.

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