3:11, Last Nightmare  

3:11 a.m.
he remembers
the Saturday morning
he and his little sister
played gangsters

and how he made his little sister
drop “the loot” (which
was really a jar
of raspberry
jam)

it looked like mashed
raspberries, like raspberry
soup when it shattered
on the concrete slab of
the basement floor,
but it was
blood

and the kid cried
not because his dad
frantically beat the tar
out of his little boy butt
but because his sister
was taken to the
hospital and had
a bad gash
on her leg

3:11 a.m.,
the kid is a man now
and he remembers that
in the dream his little sister
was feeding him toast,
raspberry jam and
glass shards.

© 2006 Captain Fathead