Shravaka

got my cable shut off tuesday. three sealed bills from Adelphia, fudge covered graham crackers, a week old banana, popcorn cakes and oreos on the counter. the cavaliers still played last night. so did the indians. i thought they might cut me a break and wait a few days until i still wasnt able to pay the bill. eh. so i plugged in my old man's 10 year transistor, electric strip in the living room. set it on the television stand, dust, blank tv screen, topped with dvds of Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Exorcist & Sylvia. Joe Tait came through the pin holes like typing paper crumpled in a skeleton's hand. the weeze & roar of static (the antenna broke 3 years ago) filled my apartment and the neighbors next door thought i was using a saw-horse; they asked me to leave the construction for the garage.

my old man told me the best way to listen to a ball game was on a radio so rattled with static it made you think of a girl you loved and was gone. Jimmy Dudley and Jack Graney. Silk & Razorblades. Cleveland Indians. 1959. pop's 11 years old and the Indians make a run at the American League Pennant. Damn White Sox come in to town, autumn trees, and sweep the hell out of us. Out go the Tribe. Pop could hardly hear 80,000 fans roaring - once in a while he hear Colavito ground out. didnt know the final score until the Press, next morning. 2-0. Tribe 3.5 games out of first.
last year it was Tampa Bay. and Chicago again. 1-6 the last 7 games at home. dad & i watched it on big-screen. mom napped on the setee.

i think of my uncle - dead - three suns - Mary's house - soon to marry - soon to die - black horses pulled him by his feet - through the streets - and no one came to collect his eyeglasses. will i hear him? when i'm awake - or asleep? - she called the other day - said he talks more now - than when alive - the phone rings everytime - before she hears him - my phone hasnt rang for days - then again - the living come through like the dead.