sasha fletcher

these days i barely get by


I kissed my wife and shot my dog last night. After that who knows. After that the sky split open. After that it went to sleep in a hole in the ground. I was up late digging it. I dug it deep. There was a mountain of dirt. I shoved it down my mouth until it filled my lungs and then I didn’t anymore. A note came crashing to the ground last night. It got lost in the mountain. I shot everything full of holes last night. I bent my knees in supplication last night. I tried prayer last night. I walked around the corner and had a beer. I met a friend. We got to talking and then I stopped listening. Then I gave it another try.

 





there is a darkness on the edge of town


I was the space in between words I was a vast encroaching darkness and I swallowed up every word that came spilling out of your mouth and when they got to my ears they weren’t there because they had been swallowed by the vast encroaching darkness. I was a chair. I was useful. I cradled you. I was a cradle. I was a baby. I was made out of clouds. I was placed in a basket and delivered to a doorstep. I was a series of steps. I was the series of steps by the bridge at the point where the river starts swallowing the ground. I was the river. I swallowed the ground. I was a flood. I came to you in the night. Please do not blame me for the things I will do. I cannot leave enough notes to tell you just how sorry I am all of the time that I am sorry and this is alright, it is ok. I will cover you in a blanket when you are tired and we will talk until you fall asleep and when you fall asleep I will cover you like a blanket and like a flood I will swallow you.