Glow

from Perfect Sleeping Weather by Larry Fulford

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Scrawled into notebooks from the familiar comforts of temporary homes and the passenger seats of mechanically unsound vehicles adrift on the highways and back roads of America, Perfect Sleeping Weather is fifteen years of thoughts, observations, facts, and fictions hammered into a collection of poetry that, according to one reader, "sounds like a sigh."

In this, his first book, writer/drummer/comedian Larry Fulford reflects on the usual -- life, death, love and leaving -- while still managing to name-check Van Halen. Twice.

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lyrics

You caught me with a phone call
on the side of the road
after I’d just hung up with a girl
I’d called drunk.

You asked what I was doing,
I said, “Pissing”
and I wasn’t kidding.

When I was little, maybe seven years old,
I shot a lizard off a fence post with a BB gun.
I was sure I’d miss
but I can’t remember if I wasn’t at least
half-trying to keep my aim steady.

At the post, seconds after firing,
I found the creature on the ground,
a Copperhead ball lodged in its skull.

Direct. Hit.

Its tail and legs still twitching,
I felt remorse deeper than ever.
It scraped aside any flicker of pride.
I mean, it was a great shot,
but seeing that helpless, harmless, dying reptile
extinguished all the glory of the moment.

I dug a little hole and put him in it
and covered him up with dirt and
wondered if lizards went to Heaven.

A while later, I returned to the gravesite and,
for some reason, tried to dig up my victim.
Curiosity, I guess.
Only I couldn’t find him.
I dug around the entire cemetery and
nothing.

So I figured God got him
and thought about his family.

I think about the things I know and know
there must be a reason I know them.
We talked all the way home
as we’ve done many times before.

Nothing is consistent
except for my skepticism
and things don’t just glow in the dark,
they glow all the time.
They just need the right environment to shine
like everyone.