Tom
Trainor - COCOON - Page 1 of 4
Tom Trainor
COCOON
A FABLE
Rumors are rife /
That
Hugo Hyde
Took his frail mother's
Life
That her death was
no
Accident / No / That
He smothered his own
mother
With her favorite
feather
Pillow
Sole heir to her estate
Nor was that the worst
of the
Gossip
He keeps weapons of
mass destruction
Is a cult unto himself
/ Abnormal
For Hugo is under
suspicion by the
Clearhaven neighborhood
association
A man who should be
tracked
His comings / His
goings
How he lived with
his mother / Just the
Two / In that tall
brooding
Victorian
Encircled with a balustrade
porch
Set back / Way back
In the woods /
And high up a turret
/ A light
Still flickers day
and night / The room
Where Hugo's frail
mother
Drew her last gasp
The floor down below
dimly lit / As
Hugo Hyde sits / Surrounded
by stacks of
The New York Times
Stacks piled high
from floor to the
Ceiling / Room upon
room
Narrow useless aisles
Hugo can barely
Squeeze by
Delivered daily and
Sundays but left
Unread / Except
For an occasional
crossword puzzle
Near genius he's been
described
Though strange if
true / More likely
Perverse
He sits and he sits
/ Long nights
Alone
Never answers the
phone
Mail gets slid through
a slot in
The door
Pizzas too
Boxes of KC fried
chicken / Along with
Icy cold cola by the
case
Man's diet's restricted
to
Bloat
Four / Five hundred
pounds of it
More
Since his poor mother's
demise
He has grown thrice
in size
Can't fit up the stairs
Can't fit through
the door / Stuck
There on the first
floor
The neighbors / They
wonder
What is it he's doing
/ Braced in an
Oversized leather
lounger / Laptop
Set precariously on
the lowest roll of
Distended intestine
/ Face
Bathed in a fiendish
green glow
Hugo stares at the
screen / Eyes
Dazed
Fingers fiddle the
keyboard / Man's
Crazed
How is it the neighborhood
Knows so much about
Hugo Hyde
Their kids / They
roam
On nightly security
patrol
Creep
Along the balustrade
porch
Peek
Into windows and watch
One with nappy hair
Another a slanty-eyed
glare
A third red and fair
 |
 |
