hallway

the sounds
in this hallway,
bounce
off the walls,
searching
for an escape.

the walls,
in this hallway,
are always
just a bit crooked,
enough so
that the angles
have crumbled.

sometimes,
when your just thinking,
you swear
that you can even hear
ghosts.

and when i'm standing
there,
searching
for that room,
guided by the hand
of voices,
it's then
that i realize
that i'm lost.

saturday afternoon kitchen

the midafternoon sun
sits
in the windowsill
like an old friend.
i wear it
like a blanket.

all i have
is this coffee
and some thoughts
that evaporate
with this light.

there's a tiny fly,
stuck,
between the screen
and window,
trying to find
a way out.

i open the window,
light another smoke,
and the tiny fly
has found an out.

i take another sip
of coffee
as i stare
at the backporch door.