nonsense poem 2
in the event
you should see me
rising floorboards
with chemical atrophy
I played to it, you know
the waves
but they were too small
maybe then
charging through
troughs of salt
wounds
it might just be
the light
the bed looks like a hurricane,
frozen in place,
then thawed.
I have been thinking all night
of glass jars
rolling on the floor,
while I hum in harmony
