Existential Crisis

Anthony Hammill

October 2021

A time ago when I  leaned on the counter of the convenience store.

Open the register and disturb the silence

Dropping a quarter and a penny on the counter. 

“Copper always makes a different sound!”, Mother would say. 

Music that’s worth twenty six cents.

The hum of the A/C keeps me company late at night. 

Take a step into the world inside of me,

A dream world where the wasting away goes away

Or where death is a good thing, a savior.

If I could, I’d be like a news reporter. 

Stepping into the afterlife, interviewing the dead

“Sir, can you describe the situation right now?”.

The light flickering and sputtering reminds me of my grandfather. 

Sputtering and flickering until it forgets how to turn on completely. 

What if it was myself though? 

Do you know when you’re losing the fight?

 Or is it more like a “Thanks for flying with us today”?

I sigh, and take in the silence. 

I remember how I can’t stand the sound of the quiet,

Beginning to resume my metallic orchestra.

All while thinking about being on Channel 5 news, 

Tomorrow night.