an action afternoon harold thane his drivers license said they found him alone in the wooden walls beholden to a salt shaker boiled potato a third cup of tea from the same bag and from his radio still came the sound of a giant tonality of somebody s dead symphony on his dresser a note i drink my tea and wait for orange mornings or a spike through my head the spike was not through his head they found him on the tile to the bathroom floor ripped slashed gutted bone meat and dirty enamel he was a poor housekeeper under the sink they found beer and wine bottles a bag of orange peelings old newspapers and the sink stank with dishes and stale creamy water some ants had come some roaches his drivers license had expired and he was a week behind in the rent as they took him outside as they carried him through the doorway the one o clock in the afternoon ladies of the neighborhood expressed their judgement criticism cow like horror horse like joy as two roaches clenched beneath the sink and fucked