247

HUNGRY IN SLEEP

Time is
made up like forestry
(in the tabloid)
I can't apologize
(*eyepatch on*)

Serious career
blame licks the
agoraphobes

I'm a mourning dove
casks of whatness
disappear
into the horrible
inversion of this parable

toxic again
radio for backup

the forms are asking questions
again and I'm listing
the times I've shouted "bow"
neighborly nevertheless