ICBM over coffee 5/18

a deep place in a shallow town
a opened up down the
     street around the corner
     where nothing happens all the time
the sun rises
     and sets
     1,000 times
while, awake in bed
wrapped up like an ICBM
racked my head against the bars
drifted into a deeper play
writing out wrong scenes
on the soft wet backs of eyelids
burning a landscape out in the alley
raccoons and possums mesmerized
     by the floating light
     behind the cloud
mommy crushes through the palms
baby follows
bees were all exterminated long ago
     but the flies and spiders
     and the crickets and moths
     hang around
     getting stronger
pushing into the house
mosquito killers bang
tiny knuckles on the window
     --looking for a friend
the sun rises
     and sets
     between headaches
while I dig my fingernails into my scalp
scraping out the dirty ideas
long, thin, wispy things--stories
tangled around my tiny knuckles