You’ve said, Dear Reader, that nighttime is silent, but I beg to differ. Nighttime is precise; I can hear the turning of each delicate gear in your disastrous brain. I can hear the Oneiroi, all night, pouring visions through your eyelids. I can even hear myself imagining myself pouring you a glass of poison, but I hear no silence, no matter how black I make my mind.
Rob MacDonald lives in Boston and is the editor of the online journal Sixth Finch. His poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Octopus, Hanging Loose, No Tell Motel, Anti-, Diode, Free Verse, H_NGM_N, Sink Review and Vinyl. Last New Death, a chapbook, is available from Scantily Clad Press..