Published: December 10, 2009

Often before sleep

I unlatch my window

and crane my neck

to watch the passersby,

each movement rendered red

under the faithful hum

of LED light:

“12 pk. bottled water for $10.99!”

What do you mean you buy that ’cause you like the taste?

my faucet gives me only rust, so fuck you!

Again, the “I” changes,

but quietly this time,

pulls out until I’m somewhere beyond the atmosphere;

my skin shrivels in the cold

There’s not so much glory in my heart anymore,

so what if my brain cracks electric

a billion times a second?

All of a sudden

I am very small

Like space opened up

along a deep fault:

groaned, yawned, and said

to everyone in a shouted whisper:

Gig’s up!

cosmic subversion trench

but for the briefest moment

space-walk-boog-a-loo