3012 Old Wood Road

 

 

Dust, silt, forms on

what used to be sand

I have been left to keep my you

in a cupboard drawer in a closet

viscous as unmixed cement

the sun shade deposits around the room

these usual days remain terrible and hot

I have become this semi funny scorpion man

criminally screaming through my time here.

 

Follow the hydrogen helium ball through the sky

the moon its lead gray top surfaces, the

frozen squalor of Mars, you and I musing on our

solar reflective space blanket

we’ll exchange exalted views

filling the onyx cold canyons with our

light footsteps

as we have known to create here

in this once house.