When the mantel clock, long-
broken, strikes a small hour,
the radiator coiled in the hall
becomes a hissing tarnished
serpent spitting at your heel.

A book you never bought
suicides from its shelf,
opening to a page where You
are alone is underlined
next to a bloody thumb-print.

The coffee spoon you placed a foot
from the kitchen counter’s edge
clatters to the scuff-marked tile
for the third time since supper,
along this psychic fault line.

Stair treads made from coffin lids
creak a step behind you as you climb.
Rooms hold their stale breath.
Shadows detach from their objects,
to wander where they will.

When you reach for the switch,
the bedroom light blinks off.
A door whinnies open. A closet coughs.
The curtains writhe. A rafter cracks
its knuckles. Good night.

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In 1985, Frederick (Rick) Lord was hired as a security guard at New Hampshire College, eventually becoming, when NHC became Southern New Hampshire University, the Assistant Dean of Liberal Arts. A collection of his poetry, What I Made Instead of a Life, was published in 1996. Lord also teaches English and serves as a poetry editor for Amoskeag, SNHU’s literary magazine. He is a recent graduate of New England College’s MFA in Poetry.
E-mail: f.lord at snhu dot edu  

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summer 2007 | kaleidowhirl
books and chapbooks from authors in this issue