Listen to the music, he thought;
the music will kidnap you gently.
Don’t look at the screen. The screen
is brutal. The screen is murder.
Kidnap is kind. Listen to the music.
Listen. Don’t write it down. Don’t try.
It’s music. Just listen. The screen is
talking death. Don’t look at the screen.
Don’t. Listen to the music.
Breathe. Listen. Breathe.
Before he knew it was
Tuesday morning, he’d
already worn out
at least two verbs.
He didn’t really care.
He’d been kidnapped.
His supply was endless.