by Christen Noel Kauffman Jr Korpa Yes, he was just a man, but also the sum of every florescent bulb suspended above me, harsh as the Wendy’s sign across the street where I found myself in the dumpster trying to salvage discarded chairs. I commiserate with poltergeists called down from my neighbor’s floor, the grey cat who claimed me among the daddy long legs & miniature bottles of coke. I offer her my last cigarette while we wait for the man to impersonate himself again, tur