Saturday, August 15, 2015


Remote Control Sonnet

          When they murdered us by remote control, they
          sang to themselves a lot.
                                                            —Alice Notley

My motivation is
killing me.  I’ve lost
the one that counted,
so a shopping spree

is impossible.  He’s
right, of course, to
be in love with the
two of them.  Add

it up; it only makes
sense.  Something is
going to be repaired
in my apartment today.

I guess I will find out
what it is around 2pm.