The static is great
The edgy horizon looks like a dozen beers
I creep into folding bed linen
Wishing I was dead 20 times
She is snoring
I’m growing a beard
The teeth are decaying
The limbs are shortening
I lift the book to read
And see I can’t see so
I put on the $2 glasses and
Glimpse lines that finally make sense
Keith Nunes
- Editor