DARK

like a pool of oil
the foot of the monitor
congeals on my desk;
the bass speaker at my foot
tickles my toe;
I fall back into a sonorous tune
that has been waiting for me like the jaws
of a poisonous
fish.

it is
late
and
I’ve given
up.

the
morning
is knocking

the moon
is sleepy

and
the sun
will
be
dark

tomorrow.


About Frank Richardson:
Frank Richardson started writing poetry and fiction while studying neuroscience in graduate school at Yale. His first novel, The Glass Artist, for which he is seeking a publisher, placed in the long list of the 2011 Faulkner-Wisdom Creative Writing Competition. His work has appeared in Do Not Look At The Sun and in the San Jacinto College literary journal Threshold. He lives with his wife of seven years in Houston, Texas, where he teaches microbiology at San Jacinto College.