Section 5 of Freddy Is Sick is big
and I’m stuck, so I’m writing a piece
about the stick. Not writer’s block,
that will never happen. No, there is
a man inside of me who is stopping
me. He isn’t killing Freddy but he’s
killing Freddy’s story. I was crossing
the bridge and the clock was laughing
loudly in fits of red, moving at six o
two, and I stopped and watched the
crow on the metal fire escape
stairs. I wanted to see where he
went when he left his perch near
the twenty-third floor. Both he and
I stood still for fourteen and a half
hours – I was holding my brief case
and my empty lunch pail, and he
was staring at me, daring me to
kill the man inside of me. Now I
am on my way to live where Freddy
lives, and his story won’t ever be told.