I’ll be taking the furniture
with me, of course
so furnish all that you’ll inure.
Be the single source
Of all the mess, the dusty
Dry dewed with motes, thick voiced and husky
That say, “Excuse me—”
when you look at them forlorn and cold,
for a cup of coffee very old
and stiffly set.
Not that this is what you would do
with coffee... or tea!
so as they do, I’ll say it, too,
—You have a yen for clothes do you?
Oh, just your stare:
your eye favors the closet to
the window where
the extended leafy platform whose
far away blooms
have simple drawn clouds’ evening hues
above the plateau, when you approach
where the clouds really go,
just coaxed the horizon low:
clouds! that uncoordinated stroll
in each themselves
bowl their asymmetric knolls’
on airy shelves.
There are practical facts to commend.
But trains are plain...
instead I’ll take you past the bed—
excuse the stain
from night sweats (and my disdain for
that my porous skin from inside pours
in nighttime’s foundry;
or extruded from me by pressing dreams
over my sleep space,
now stiff with vague enchanting ways’
wine stain grace:
she that lent playing card appeal
to potato chips;
magic or poker save one allele:
but that Hoyle rip resounded
as I awoke;
the flirting that pleasantly mounted
showed its hoax.
Insomnia and bad dreams are
two separate things;
and it is insomnia by far
that the day brings.
And I was inconsolable.
but my moods have their foils.
What’s next then?
There’s the trees’ chaise lounge that look like clouds
and then the clouds
and then, below, the street aloud
with traffic sounds.
Those who need to problem solve
the storm drain pond;
that in attempting to resolve
traversal,–– when seeing it, fetid
congested sinus methods
tip toe the shallows and sidle
back to fender,
the parked car’s midday revival,
gave dancing life in golden gleam—
by coincident, the sunshine’s screen—
I do the room, by this and that,
but the andouille colored cats!
and the neighbors!!