BROWN ROOM IN The White House 

by Hokis 

Part I

In the house around the corner.

"I just want to know what it feels like,"

he said to me, my pants pulled down and my arms held above my head.

(labor day before junior year)

The large cork board to the left.

      A poster of Kiss, in full makeup (disguise),

      Spinal Tap (the mockumentary),

      Farrah in her red bathing suit (buffet of descriptors).

The bed was filled with water.

The walls were brown.

My right hip froze in fear - 32 years later, the hip soldier grips when I grieve.

“I just want to know what it feels like”

Those words, all alone, sitting in my memory.

 Just. Those. Words.

             I just want {to invade you so I can learn}

             I just want {you to give in so I will feel something I want to feel}

             I just want {you to sit here quietly and do what I say}

             I just want {you to go along with the lie that this is right}

             I just want {you to realize your place in the world}

             I just want {you to lay there and wait for me to understand something I don't currently

             understand}

There. That is it.

Wait. Wait.

I need to pretend you aren’t here, so I can ________.