Divisio Alley

There he is

coughing blood.

There's probably a little bile

and some reflux.

Yet, from here

all I can see

is the deep maroon

of blood spilling at the end

of another golden hour.


There's another man

Framing the alleyway

with his broad shoulders.

Sweat glistens almost perfectly

around his chiseled self.


There's just a little wine left,

I should have poured more.


And there he goes.

Another crack.

Bones really do break

like they do on television.

The poor man's on the floor.

He's so still,

The floor almost moves

in his stead.


A big gulp and the wine's done.


The other one's tasting

what his wine feels like.


He'll soon be off

for another.


The third of this kind

I've seen this week.

My son knows.

Whenever he visits,

he stares sadly

at where the window

should have been,

and then back at me.

He tries,

but these blinding white walls

wear him down to tears.

And my dramatic granddaughter,

with eyes wider than her four chins

whispers,

"Dad, let's go."

As though I'm the one

that's doing 'em dirty.


Maybe I'll see her one day,

down the Divisio Alley.

And then,

my son will listen.


He's still there.


But I'm too old

to be staring at blood

for too long.


I'd call the police

but then frankly,

I'd miss the show.


They're gone.

I should sleep now.

And maybe in my dreams,

these soft, medicine white walls

will finally grow a blush.


Image Courtesy: Pinterest (slightly edited)- Padded cell in mental health facility that is generally used for patients at high risk of self-harm.


What's Divisio Alley you ask? The slightly damp, deliberately decrepit, ruinous nook in your mind which you'd rather not reveal to anyone. It's the place with dank thoughts, creepy imaginations, Dahmer kind of beliefs and maybe just a little more gore than you'd ordinary like to admit to fostering in the regular social context.


Divisio is latin for Division. This alley begins at the divide from your conscious self (the one that acts), and ends at the infinity of your imagination. It's the birthplace of all possible monsters that would later find adulation in Halloween.


There are rules to let out whatever lives in your Divisio Alley:

Joke about it, and you're a disturbed creep.

Narrate it to people and you're an unstable freak.

Believe in it and you're schizophrenic.

Be in two minds about it and you're bipolar.

Act on it and you're (most likely) a serial killer.

Create art about it and you're safe.

Convince others that you don't believe in it and you're the quintessential human being.


Choose well.

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