Steam cools in cobbles
on thin glass

above dead pressed mulch,
coarse and boggy,

near dry silt laced like foam
on salty sea.

Between one coffee and
the next,

forgotten grounds fire
their broken dust,

remember a hot, earthy cellar,
a clay oven,

in cold water clearing
the cold cup.

He offers me a glass of wat-
er. "Is it wet enough for you?"
"It's wetter than a river ot-
ter rolling in the morning dew."

He offers me a glass of wat-
er. "Is it wet enough for you?"
"This water tastes like liquid cot-
ton sifted through a burning shoe."

He offers me a glass of wat-
er from the common well's abyss.
"This water looks as red as Trot-
sky's eye and tastes like Stalin's piss."

You wake upon a carpet soaked in wine
to feel the walls around you stretch and shrink
and press against the pressure on your spine,
unbed yourself as tucked upon by drink.
Unwind the vice that clamps around the head
and loose the screw that tightens at the jaw.
You twist the tendons, heavy as a tread
and strip the bolts that drive into your maw.
You wobble, wisen upright with a yawn
and warble, crooning, swooning to the floor
and crumble on the carpet with a coo.
Your cogs are locked; your curtains let the dawn
abound, secured unfirmly as the door,
as bright and strident skewers murder you.

in a dark sunken
      something
lived a hideous, terrible
      whatever
and twenty babies cried
for twenty hours taking turns
with time cards causing
sunken ship somethings
unsinking on the
buoyancy the weightless
but hideous whatever
was above dotting
every little i with
itsaboys patented pacifiers

thursday
there's day like
wednesday
when this day's
a wind's day

a rain delay
red light
roundelay
re-delight
delayed green

slick sheen
shimmers sleet on
shining green
concrete
shuffles feet

for a day
fried egg on
friday
there's a day not
thursday

trapped in my window
between the
screen
and the
glass

stink bug clings
to the mesh
and
watches or hears or
smells

long cheeky
insects have sex out
side
x = y + 4
that way

stink bug inserts
himself
between the window frame
and screen
frame

and on the eighth day
the malady froze
frost, sticky ice
grip gave way

just a cool sweat
slips once again
farewell to pain
farewell to debt