ALL HE HAD

He had a character he liked to dress up as, Nubla Con—The Weather Thief, but he couldn’t find a theater and he couldn’t find a play. He had a list of things that he needed to tell people, mostly about what was underrated (“Swept For You, Baby”) and what was not (They Call Me Bruce). He had a check made out to the roofer as a deposit for a repair that would remedy the damage done by the woodpeckers. He had a dog that ran around the yard, looking for his other dog. He had a recording of that other dog from years before, when he was a puppy, when he was alive, a pretend job interview where he would ask set-up questions (“What do you call a tuned radio amplifier?”) and the dog would answer (“RF!”). He had a book he tried to read but found impenetrable. He had a chair he tried to throw away but found tenacious. He had a suspicion that something was bothering him. He had a memory of one evening with one woman, a dark room, a big room, too many pillows, laughter, too, though after that she had hardened to him and the laughs, while the continued, were brittle. He had a hope that time would soften her to him. He had a fork poised above a bowl of beans. He had a pain in his side that he did not yet know was cancer. 

©2020 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas