©2023 michael raven
some paranoid days
have fingers peeking
around corners
winking and blinking
thinking i know
something is going on
like frida in my pocket
tap-tapping squared
metal edges, joint
compound flaking
and falling to shag
port wine and jangled
and
the face in the door
with his old man mouth
moving in circles laughing
at the footsteps up the stairs
and slapping black steel rail
with the lady in white
concubine in tow behind
someone i memory broke
a long time ago
come now, don't be shy
don't you cry
we will play a game of you
windows calling, and
so the night, hiding under
until the stroke of dawn
laughter of stone men
down the hall
sceadugenga 
Such lovely descriptions here. My favorite line is “like frida in my pocket
tap-tapping squared
metal edges”
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Thank you. I found myself slightly haunted-feeling after writing this one out, recalling fragments of something in sometime, but not enough to think of it as anything more than mist.
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