The Filament in a Light Bulb Makes Up its Core

by James Allen Thomson

I find the more people
in the room, the less
light there tends to be.
Objects are absorbent.
I have spent a lot
of time searching
for reflective people.
I have spent a lot
of time disappointed
in myself. When I was
at the store, I purchased
bulbs and a generator.
I forgot the switches.
I forgot to come out
of the bedroom
last time we had guests.
I believe the fan
makes noise for me. I
believe when air circulates,
so does my smile. I have
seen bone in biology,
the freeway ditches,
protein dishes, and the one
time I really broke my leg.
Once everything is picked
away. We go ghostly.

James Allen Thomson currently lives in Central Texas where he is an English lecturer at Texas State University. His poetry has appeared in Poached Hare, Twyckenham Notes, and IthacaLit.