[Jimmy, in his going]
J.A. Tyler

In his shoe, Jimmy's shoe, down near the toes, the rock has been there for days. Jimmy has slept with his shoes on and he knows it because every morning he wakes up he feels that same rock in his same shoe down by the toes and grinding. And Jimmy, he is still living. When the rock that is the rock in his shoes, when that discomfort has gone, when the shoe is just a shoe, Jimmy will know that either he finally slept in only his socks or that the life that was Jimmy's life has turned away from itself and become something different. The kind of morning that Jimmy is waiting for, where the sun comes and there is a difference, like something has somehow shifted, and that rock is no longer a rock but fingers holding his fingers, skin on skin. Jimmy sleeps to wake, waiting for this kind of a moment. Sifting sand, rock in his shoe, his eyes going sleeping another night, another night. Jimmy and his toes. Jimmy and his waiting.