Sunday, July 27, 2008


In a hot summer day
back in grandma's old house
before it was ruined by the earthquake, 
before the new building was erected

I am seven or eight again
reading my aunt's magazines 
running around the yard surrounded by  tall walls
keeping an eye on that old dark wooden door
with long slippery stairs going down, 

I carry a small lamp, watchful for the roaches around
sometimes falling on my head
listening for the sound of them fly
and I wake up with the sound
not able to go back to sleep
not until they are dead
in a hot summer night


  1. Wonderful! I loved it!

  2. Thanks, I was not sure how writing about nightmares and roaches would turn out :)


IT'S NOT ...

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