| every morning the cats scale the glass door
to express their hungry impatience
i know theres a random spot in the kitchen floor my foot
will go through
some mornings there are so many faucets i don't need
coffee
the bed closed soon after i left it, locked the door, hung
a do not disturb sign
i decide to wear to work then remember my jobs here
the coffee plants in the yard wont make it through the winter,
shrivelling
next to the chocoloate bushes but the barley survives, the
hemp is unstoppable
the neighbors who come past twice a day with their 3 huskies
are walking goats today.
i am further from town than ever, approaching a gap in the
mountains
that leaves me unprotected from the deserts siren call
i lift my cup thats always half full, luke warm, lumpy with
flavor, fragrant with promises,
etching a message in the roof of my mouth only the dentist
can read.
when I try to talk i realize my frequencys been changed. i
no longer rock.
everything i say is a calculated exaggeration. if i try to
sing
a commercial interrupts. this is just a taste.
if it were an actual emergency i'd be wet and shrinking
unable to leave the shadow of rampant infill—
to get to the street i have to go through someone elses yard
and house.
when i answer the phone the police tell me i'm the
wrong guy.
more cats jump against the upstairs window, seeing the birds
in my eyes,
smelling the feathers of my inadequate jacket
|
