“Steven Hawking”
There was a small boy,
a small and strange and quiet boy,
who could not watch anything,
who one day watched
a show about Steven Hawking.
And found a new enemy.
And I’ve been dark,
as everyone,
and can go dark
at a moment’s notice. No
reason is necessary:
Imagine,
black holes
swallowing everything in their path:
voracious and indifferent.
This small boy had an imaginary friend
called: “Bad bad fan.”
-A fan, with little eyes and teeth for blades:
if he blew on a cup, the cup broke
if he blew on a man, the man died
if he blew on you, you died
if he blew on your mother, your mother died-
swallowed by the dark.
“I lived on Hazel St.”
and caught wind.
and I lived on East Dallas Rd.
and I spun like a vane in the night.
Little boy, my heart has a black streak
that streaks out toward you across
time and space and the radio-
I am unsure if our enemies
are the same, but humans
are not that complicated.
There is something inevitable
on our breath-
wild and cold and universal-
spinning out love into the dark,
we smile, no reason is necessary,
we see an ending. An ending approaches.
Berlin, August 2007
(note: this poem references actual persons and events described in the episode titled "Special Ed" of the American radio program, "This American Life." It also references the Deerhunter song "Hazel St.")
