The Scream

The wail woke me.
Strobe-light shrieking
sat me up in bed,
I had been sleeping.

We huddled
outside the dorm
wondering what’s the point
of a fire-alarm test in an ice-storm.

There were no real fires that winter,
spring, summer, or fall,
and, today, there are no sirens at my house,
but every so often something happens that resounds
the scream, the call
to exit, to be brought out of dreaming,
to be cranked out of jack-in-the-box living.





7 thoughts on “The Scream

    1. Kijo

      Incidentally, I visited a Jack in The Box for the first time last month. I even went through the drive-through. It was like living an imaginary future: driving a box to a box to eat food from a box.


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