Monday, September 3, 2012


artwork: ralph murre

by Karl Elder

Ha, shade!  Euphemism for
shadow, part of the dark

dank tunnel you’ve traveled
since your boyhood room where

the mirror might as well’ve
faced the wall,

so awful it was
to look upon glass

that seemed, like Dracula’s,
unable to reflect.  There

a shadow lurked in the shadows
cast by the streetlight

a B∙B shot out
every other night

that time you felt mean,
man, real mean−

the very same shadow
you lie on now

like the ghost of somebody else
in this two-bit rented room

in the cool of an awning
where you are bored,

boy, bored beyond yawning,
having been tailed,

targeted from the beginning
victim of nothing,

your self the weapon
of its would-be assassin.

~ previously published in Phobophobia (Prickly Pear Press)