Playing Possum
                                                                         Bio
                                    by: Trace Estes

  The moan of a floorboard
warns of approach
and I shutter my eyes.
The sigh I've learned to hate
confirms her presence at the doorway.

Are you asleep?
in a desperate tone that requires
no answer and wishes for none.
She continues to the guestroom—
her new sanctuary. The word asshole follows
her steps back down the hallway, reacquires
its target and impacts with enough force
to expel held breath.

I allow the whirring fan blades
to draw me deeper, study the puzzle
from different angles and wonder:
when love took on the odor of gangrene;
why that fucking truck driver
hadn’t just put it in reverse and made sure;
and who is being amazed
by my wife’s sexual precision.

I fall asleep on crisp linen.
Trace Estes began his love affair with the written word at the age of seven, and many decades later is still a loyal worshiper. He is a husband and father--and they all know about the affair. He is forced to write every day by a pissed-off muse with a gun.The gun has been effective, as Trace has recent publications in Real Eight View, WORM #34, kaleidowhirl, a number of Crescent Moon Journals, and the print anthology Mind Mutations.