you may telephone from here ('the way') [2010]

the phone rang me at 3:00 AM (piercing a nocturnal peace) and snapped at my ear (crusted near deaf with psoriasis) as it delivered a cryptic message (like static dots and dashes) about the dead passengers (only the infant had survived) and the need to trace "the way" back home (a treacherous stumble by any standard)

I had returned once before (over bedrolls and dollar bags of chips) when Reagan was still in office (the jar of jellybeans well settled) but that was prior to the burning (my own neglect aflame) and well before my family had found a suitable equivalent of me in mathematics (linear inequalities in one variable) 

now (this fleeting time) as the calendar clocked on (a ruthless pace) days and nights and weeks and months (and perspiration) dripped like hot wax fuel onto my flaming boots (size 13 lanterns) illuminating the black path ahead of me (complete with one gaping sinkhole) and quickening my staggered gait (a limp lit)

when I tripped onto the familiar black-and-white (a deceptive unity) checkered tile floor (across "the way" from Faker and Puke) my brain sprung from the safety of my skull (clearly not properly strapped) landing with a smack (overdubbed poorly) and slid to a stop beneath a well-stocked gun rack (all correctly loaded and cocked)

suddenly (as if upon a distant request) the dog long asleep in the corner (a basset hound with three sets of teeth) stirred and sprang awake (a sacrosanct sight to behold) revealing another (better) brain beneath his massive frame (double average) and he began to howl and bark in varying turns (a code strikingly familiar)

as I stretched dumb across the flame (singeing my intent) to befriend the low beast (agitated beyond recognition) he combusted instantly before me (a holy Flash) leaving behind a grey pile of ash (a proper memorial) which I then promptly sifted through (snapshot of sandbox) to secure the (better) brain (indeed a grey matter)

once in my head (a reluctant fit) the brain proclaimed a new me (unfolding hundreds of times) and I slipped into a scholarly stride (limp lifted) which extinguished the lamps at my feet (no longer requiring time's incitement) and itself revealed "the way" through an educating homeward path (a living family alongside it)

at last (this had been 40 years coming) a frightening siren sounded forth (like the EBS) from the nearby laundry room (where I'd once pissed in the set tub) and I immediately deduced (new brain and all) that it must be the phone (you may telephone from here) but as I moved toward it (with clear ears) the next ring clipped in half (as if a mathematical equation)

someone had picked it up (a startling solution) and as I rounded the corner (doubt pounds dropped away) I noticed (eyes not smeared) on the floor (deception dissipating) a diapered child strapped into a safety seat (an infant key) and smiling (a beaming eternity) holding the receiver out to me ("hello...")