For Years And Years

J.J. Steinfeld

 

I wake in a low-budget B-movie

memories are confiscated

experiences dissolved

expectations truncated

I yell out for the script

and an unsympathetic voice

tells me to get dressed and ad lib

as if my life depended on it.

Angered and confused,

I push at a wall and,

much to my surprise,

it does move

I push at an impinging house

then a sturdy but sad building

then a small city of structures

then a little larger city

the downtown district only

push and push

exertion exceeding memory

cleverness well past experience

mindís eye traded for expectation

until everything is moved

to a more comprehensible location

and I can get on with the magic tricks

I have been working on for years

and years.

 

 

 

Canadian fiction writer, poet, and playwright J. J. Steinfeld lives onPrince Edward Island. He has published two novels, Our Hero in the Cradle of Confederation (Pottersfield Press) and Word Burials (Crossing Chaos Enigmatic Ink), nine short story collections, the previous three by Gaspereau Press - Should theWord Hell Be Capitalized?, Anton Chekhov Was Never in Charlottetown, and Would YouHide Me? - and a poetry collection, An Affection for Precipices (Serengeti Press).His short stories and poems have appeared in numerous anthologies and periodicalsinternationally, and over forty of his one-act and full-length plays have been performed in Canada and the United States.

 

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