Friday, October 22, 2010

mcclxxiv

I found the gap in your
attention span.   It hugs a
pink bag full of chipped
saucers.   And it’s cold.

Could we end it here,
before the next commer-
cial?   I’ve said a million
times I don’t think so.

All of a sudden nothing
is familiar.   It doesn’t
matter which lung goes
first just give it the old

heave-ho, right?   Wake
at four in the morning
to a tenebrous fenestra-
tion.   Get your act to-

gether.   Then go nine
years without a shower.
It’s pretty easy, isn’t it?