fragment (the river boat captain)

I take up a spot of tile near the edge

of the carpet, stare out of the window that starts a foot off the
floor. I sit long, feel like a beanstalk giant.

A chain link fence, silver, galvanized
steel wire reflects the dirty orange of the spot light that sits high
above the two cars parked out back.

The beetle that raced in behind me a
few hours ago is strolling the window ledge. Wings, a flurry of
vibrations battering blinds and glass. If I were asleep right now,
I'd be dreaming of out of control helicopters.