Fall 2017 final digital.pdf


My home is home to many
Mario Stone

written @ Saint Matthew’s House, homeless shelter in Collier County, Florida

Here time is sharp, cuts lights
out at ten as the lingering chatter dies down
like gossip found out.
Music persists
but louder than headphones are the snores
and sharper than time are the coughs
sporadically torn from
dry, 
jagged 
throats and wet 
lungs.

It’s half  past two
and a hack of  a cough is killed

the night’s most humble sound,
and the bite on my thigh
the loudest by far. Jealous,
the bites on my arms scream
to the bites on my calves
and the bites on my ankles,

tearing skin add to the din,

cough itch scratch itch
itch cough itch scratch.
Itch.
Itch.

 
the black bed
bugs scurrying



My home is home to many

bloated 

My nose curls 
as I 
jab 
and feel 
them crush 
beneath my disgust 
to red 
fetid memories 
on white sheets. 

I take a deep breath
and let myself  feel
my shirt shifting on my skin,
the night’s only caress