Saturday Soaker
the rain this
morning is
balls. deep
within (t)his
tiny cave,
trying not
to make the
coffee a dis
aster. dug
i, boombox
out of a ream
of leaflets, mostly
adverts for
installment
loans—any
thing not to
have to leave
my desk
(climb out
of my bed).
boom
goes
the
room.
