James Duncan

Affliction

with no subtle pageantry the small rodents of the natural world descend from the trees to devour green chestnuts on the front steps, cascading detritus and chewed husk in all directions, delighted consumption, basking bright in the summer sun as within I wither away in shadow, looking upon the world through a window shade of blue, replete with disease, my slow recovery in solitude amongst books in neat piles, fastidious organization and humming fans billowing my sick room as I wait and watch the local rodents celebrate another season without finance or time-cards or weaponry or nuclear codes or advertising money or corporate executive officers or the empty rooms in an empty house where children once played, now ghosts that haunt dreams and makes one wonder what else waits beyond the veil as recovery crawls through the veins and cells and daydream hopes within me, sitting by the window in this summer of contagion

James H Duncan is the editor of Hobo Camp Review and the author of Proper Etiquette in the Slaughterhouse Line, Both Ways Home, Vacancy, and We Are All Terminal But This Exit Is Mine, among other books of poetry and fiction. You can find him at www.jameshduncan.com.