- Dodger Stadium
Sometimes I pose in front of the mirror with weapons and practice making threatening remarks. It seems like something always comes before everything but nothing ever leads to anything. Is simple math the new math? I’ve watched most of Ingmar Bergman’s films. A doctor’s first duty is to ask for forgiveness. There are some neat ideas and 90% is filler. I like the parts where the guy melodramatically gets his hand peed on. See my hand? It feels like someone is driving a nail into it. I have no idea where it’s been. I wonder: if an asteroid were speeding toward us and we knew there was no way to stop it, would we finally be nice to each other? I’m standing in the sunlight pouring milk all over my face. I’ve forgotten to tether myself to something. I’m aware of how fragile my body is. [End Page 25]
Jason Bredle lives in Chicago. He is a recipient of a grant from the Illinois Arts Council, and his fourth book, Carnival, was selected as an Editor’s Choice for the Akron Series in Poetry and published by the University of Akron Press.