Paralysis

By DS Maolalai

in a city, white windows 
and cellar-slung light;
a second-floor bedsit
divided apartment
in a semi-detached, wood-
paneled, two-story
50s-built house. on a wall, 
a west window looks 
over the rooftops 
of downhill at sunset
while the red of it settles 
to crevice like blood 
on your sunglasses. everyone 
sees this; wild colour
spreads over toronto.
cream on cut strawberries
on a cracked ceramic plate. 
there is nothing special 
about being just here. disregard: you sit down
and put business in order. jammed 
under the door
are all folded bits of paper – enough 
that, to open it, one would have
to use force. in your desk bottom 
drawer there should be a gun also,
but you have no idea
where to get such a thing. your girlfriend 
is on the bed, legs crossed
looking over. if either of you were sensible
you'd have taken the money, bought bus tickets
gone somewhere else. outside,
a car pulls up, a light crawling out
of an opening passenger glovebox. it idles 
awhile,goes away.

DS Maolalai has been nominated eleven times for Best of the Net, eight for the Pushcart Prize and once for the Forward Prize. His poetry has been released in three collections, most recently "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019) and “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022)