August 21, 1983
by Derik Cumagun
He could have laid it down neatly beside him
instead the newspaper rested on his chest
as he lay dozing on the couch. The pages
heaving and sighing as he dreamt:
About how many pages it would take to
stop a bullet?
But his head lay bare. And the morning sun
sharpened the shadows on his face.
When he woke up, his glasses were nowhere
to be found and the whole household went looking.