three forty one am
a poem by Zachary M Hodson
she whistles out her nose
each draft draws a dry line cross the nape of my neck
my eyes might as well be sewn open
the lcd flickers until it does not
three forty one am again
a number for which i will forever make special note
but that has nothing to do with her
there is a doorbell in my house
& a carbon monoxide detector
i cannot remember the last time either made a noise
both of these things please me
which is remarkable
i am not easily entertained these days
frumpy is the new aloof
& i was hard hearted before it was supercilious
[much as i was credulous before i was super silly]
my mind works discovery tunnels through the darkness
they turn to swaddle me like a ball of yarn
the obedient percolation of a yonder cave rill
implores me to dive deeper
count down the nine rung ladder
to the basement under grandmothers house
& eventually to sleep
Don't forget to stop by the GUA Shop