The Blinking Light

Someone’s going to have a seizure.
The bulb’s either dying or poorly connected.

The slightest advances of everyone around,
the gradual gestures of those already seated—

all sinister,

their lives chopped up
and yet they go on;

repeated snapshots,
pages in a bad cartoonist’s flipbook.

Between is where we can’t find each other—

little deaths,

little sleeps,

little hiding places.

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Mark Henderson teaches at Tuskegee University. He earned his Ph. D. at Auburn University with concentrations in American literature and psychoanalytic theory. He has poems published or forthcoming in Cozy Cat Press, From Whispers to Roars, and Defenestrationism.net. He was born and raised in Monroe, Louisiana, and currently resides in Auburn, Alabama.