Sunday, May 29, 2011

blanched -- Poetry 2011

Pretending or maybe

she really convinced herself

this was her first encounter

of the intimate kind.

Having dredged the only other

into a deep pit;

love’s waste buried deep

in caverns sealed to prevent leaks…

enticing touch refuted for most

of her adult life;

hiding in a shallow world

without accompaniment,

her crone dance graced

midnight’s dark wisdom.

Past denying deception

linked to an anchor of mistrust;

her blanched heart surged

nestling skin to skin…


Saturday, May 28, 2011

Own Voice -- Poetry 2011

Stick a pin in her - my warped imagination…

she’d deflate spinning around the room

at warp speed expelling charged air;

formula computed from pressure, amount

of flatulence and size of puncture.

Some people never tire of hearing their

own voice commenting above and beyond

regular conversation - leaving pause and polite

to more mannered but overwhelmed  guests.

Continuing despite glazed eyes and tight lips,

she spouts unless gagged with a canapé.

Wine glass topped off, she drains the contents.

Receptions, bane of many creative types…

I clock watch waiting until optimal opportunity;

easing out the door, slipping back into obscurity,

observing the blessed silence of my car.

Perfumed or cologned patrons are even worse!!!!


Friday, May 27, 2011

Had Enough -- Poetry 2011

Had enough of my scribbles?

Words sprawled

repeating circular log jam;

sticky encumbrances

revolving not evolving…

my dancing routine memorized.

Common steps of a safe waltz

but longing to twist and boogie up…

Failing to see where scribbles end;

words scrawled – sweet and sour –

odd debutant’s first kiss to page or

first formal gown formally pristine

now stained, ragged and frumpy.

This dated body disdains youthful

foolish appearance revolving not evolving…

Had enough of my scribbles?


Obvious -- Poetry 2011

So where’s the rainbow?

Sun ripped a hole in squall lines;

tattered value scale, a perfect

setting for prismatic illumination.

I need illumination – any kind...

through tattered value,

between rise and fail.

Definite need for a prism

to highlight the unobvious.

Stuck in dim radiance, blindly

watching for obvious path…


Scree -- Poetry 2011

Natural car wash

scours blossoms,

bird droppings,

regular dust but

succeeds in avoiding

oily road grime.

Premonition coated metal

marred by failed removal.

Soap dissipates surface

leaving congealed residue –

Sea bottom feeders

would ignore gelled scum.

Remedial baking soda sans vinegar

streaking bubbles form

ancient runes - foretelling what?

Circumstantial road scree…


Non-verbosity -- Poetry 2011

Beyond writing…

lost in squalls

bombarding the car.

Safely enclosed -

warm and dry -

half gazing – lost…

windshield waterfalls,

roof pounding tempo

depleted to sacrifice.

Who am I now?


Distance -- Poetry 2011

Puzzled by one-on-one

close interaction

with playful overtones…

I miss her, I miss them all.

Perhaps I’m lucky to be

separated by distance

since I never miss their

visited trauma drama.

During trio visits the

dynamic are crazy

fueling outbursts;

chronic temper tantrums

bounce from one to another.

Mostly verbally volatile,

hands on by five-year-old,

hands off by parents…

such button pushing rides

between smothered calm

veiled in net of conflict…


Rabid attack -- Poetry 2011

Temper tantrum explodes

punching and kicking his mother;

who responds with escalated swearing…

chasing after her with claws extended,

his five-year-old body slides to the floor.

Crone grandmother intervenes

grabbing dangerous kicking feet;

surprised at cobra speed,

he rapidly scratches her hands…

still kicking wildly despite heel dangle

which only prevents arching claws.

Reading my upside down face,

he considers my calm response.

Precariously balanced,

his movement is stymied.

Waiting for release…

his mother takes a time out too.


Blenderized -- Poetry 2011

Rain tears torn from

past memory VS. current state…

bilateral confusion

blenderized to slick consistency.

Lacking substance, wind thrown

splatters without dimension.

Hurtling into the fray,

helpless to congeal

against formidable gravity,

velocity, spin of earth…

beyond seeping,

drains flounder

momentum escalates

washing remains…


Hearing Ears -- Poetry 2011

Falling on hearing ears…

decisive imbalance,

controlled acknowledgement

attempting to share

some insight into your display.

Trio shares an Incongruous

relationship dynamic filled with

detrimental demonstrations:

flaring, swearing, violence…

laced with snuggle and love

Our havoc was after paternal visits;

emotional backlash shuddered for two weeks.

Finally settling into routine, I don’t remember

monstrous retribution aimed at my Mom,

Dad or myself… although conflict danced

between your brother and you…

so jarred by this latest theatrical exhibition,

I am physically exhausted, emotionally drained;

knowing my words would fall on hearing ears

locked into familial distortion…


Permanent -- Poetry 2011

More grey bitter rain…

summer laying low

disguised as blustery fall.

Closing in on solstice,

warm temperatures allude

despite long light;

pirated by angst riddled

raging Mother Nature…


Timing Off -- Poetry 2011

Eating separate meals

at odd hours;

no co-ordination…

their food – our food.

No compromise…

organic meals at home

or choosing to eat a menu

of non-organic food.

Exasperated silence –

no communication.

What’s the difference?

Don’t feel like cooking…

What does that imply?

Mystified my DNA marks you,

binds you to me…

talk to me.


Volcanized Visit -- Poetry 2011

Normal turbulence

Drifts agonizing euphoria

Buffeted upheaval

Whipped up

Unrest undercurrent

bubbles froth of furry

Unfailing safety release

Unclogged vents scream

Clawing exposed skin

Kicking, pinching, punching

Overwhelmed surfaces

Parental eruption

Dark and furious

Success measured in decibels

Success marked in wild giggles


Evaluation -- Poetry 2011

Circle correct response -

rate on a scale of 1 to 10…

I enjoyed this life and learned a great deal:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

This life met or exceeded my expectations:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

What do you think you’ve gained?


What did I like about this life?


Please list anything you would change:


Would you recommend this life to anyone?

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Where did you hear about this life?


Please list reasons for enrolling?
Other Comments:

Thank You….

Grey matter -- Poetry 2011

middle ground

centered grey…

not black or white;

clear definition

one or the other.

Grey matter…

which way does it lean?

If black is a negative?

If white is a positive?

Or is it vice versa…

grey rests in the middle

a tone of noncommittal.


Scent of life -- Poetry 2011

One less box:

Halloween costumes,

dance recital outfits,

baby rattles, watches,

miscellaneous history –

an accessible time capsule

saved from her children’s lives.

Touching toys caught residual energy;

ignited a longing to hold her babies…

she imagined scent of new life.

Each item produced images of them

growing and outgrowing belongings …

she loaded these treasures into bags.

Dragged from address to address,

she had keep the past close.

Even though her memories fail,

physical ones clutter her present.


During Dreaming -- Poetry 2011

Taking my space with a smile

moving me to a different line;

settling in,

another person would step too close…

not enough room to stretch out arms.

Being gently pushed out of the way…

again and again

by fixed wordless smiles.

Into the back row,

voice instruction too soft;

limited view of instructor,

eyes roam to a duckling –

miniscule in size, abandoned…

tucking the fowl into the space

between my breasts, the feathers tickle;

cradled warm and drying, it makes

content sounds before sleeping.

Abandoning Tai Chi, cradled warm and dying,

I make content sounds during dreaming.

Friday, May 20, 2011

Hidden -- Poetry 2011

Hidden from without,

true self skulks

wary in a shadow life.

Afraid of dismissal

but shouting and still not heard;

avoiding confrontation

but so often ignored.

Who am I?

You’d think I’d know by now…

blending into the background

on purpose;

dislocated talent to be obscure.

So many roles disguising

authentic self;

Perpetuating self indulgence

hidden from within…


Name Tags -- Poetry 2011

Faded name tags are tattered

reminders of past receptions.

Stuck to the car’s sun visor,

one even proclaims – Artist!

A reminder of who I purport to be

for the months when nothing sells;

when motivation to produce

dissipates in evaporated commerce.

Self stick name tags are ragged

reminders of my name for days

when I feel forgotten passed over

without a glance…


Visual Recognizant -- Poetry 2011

Fridge is either full or empty.

It’s hard to close the door

on a vast wasteland of neglect…

Mystery leftovers unlabeled

relinquish their appeal.

Even reheating wouldn’t

kill the mold spores

or fermentation bubbles.

Passing on the taste test

keeps precious taste buds safe,

prevents gag reflex remuneration,

or even worse gastric upset.

Relying on visual recognizance

is best as it even keeps sinuses

safe by avoiding lethal sniff test.…

now if I could just pry these jars

off the shelves….


No Normal -- Poetry 2011

Nasty wet spring

bursts into summer heat

Mother Nature’s joke

laughing at people suffering

her weather whims; no matter

what season, nothing is normal.

Who doesn’t want a smooth trip

free from glitches and torrential twists.

Some glide;

some find every pot hole,

every squall,

every intimate torture.

Nasty events

burst into heart;

life’s twisting pranks

from birth to death.

Natural progression

no matter what season

there is no normal…


words plummet -- Poetry 2011

free fall

words plummet

dry loops and lines

ride drafts

parched graphite strokes

collect moisture

simple words

rapid descent

poor choices

coated outside

vivid context

soggy dust

smashes earth

forming puddles

collecting in pools

slipping down the drain

inner reaches

slipping down drain

before washed out to sea


Happy Homemaker -- Poetry 2011

She once had a point.

Was so sure of her purpose,

geared in a specific direction.

Why consider anything else?

It was the norm;

it was the natural progression:

College, teach, marriage, kids.

Simple formula -

instruct until procreation,

coddling offspring,

being a happy homemaker.

When last child hit school age,

mom went back to the classroom too.

That was the point:

summer’s off and same day schedule.

Unsuccessful as she was in choosing

her life partner…

her purpose became unspecified;

no longer a normal progression;

this new formula was complex.

Since that happy home wrecker

divided a decidedly flimsy fantasy.

Was there ever a true connection?

Backward thoughts view oddities;

his habits and circumstantial events

prove a mathematical probability:

he cheated all along….


Ruled Paper -- Poetry 2011

Hand tingles

Fingers numb

Clutching pen

Wiggling its point

Snatching and scratching

Another Friday’s wait

A chance to fill pages

Work out coordination

Of fluid randomness

Staring at cinderblock walls

Middle gray – so normal

Neither black or white

Like this ink to page

No gray to be found here

With these inked thoughts

Recorded to ruled paper


Colored Paper -- Poetry 2011

Should I buy different

colored paper?

Might influence words:

yellow for sunny thoughts;

red for wild and crazy;

purple for highest realm.

You see where I’m going…

blue might seem obvious-

for me it’s a calm color;

green is for growth;

orange would be neglected -

it’s my least favorite color.

Tend to depend on blue,

I mingle its hues and tone

with cobalt being my favorite.

I could do without pink too…

My color wheel is lop sided;

so is my life – colored unevenly…

sometimes precise,

sometimes scribbles and scrawl.

Disregarding conformity…

I turn my nose up to normal;

happier place to be rather than

submissive colors and tone

trying to please in bland hues.

Shopping for an assorted package

of primary colors with ink

strong enough to be seen…


Metaphor -- Poetry 2011

Closing in on midnight with out scribbles…

clearing detritus from floors and counters,

sucking pet fur, bird feathers, dirt and grime.

Roaring of in-house vac drowned out thoughts;

dust clogged sinuses for cotton wool connections.

How long can I keep it clean this time?

Rather be hiding in the “art” room ignoring

unimportant parts of the house…

Rather be hiding in right brain activities ignoring

important facets of my life…

the parts where I’m stuck and not changing;

the parts that cause slips into misery.

Closing in on midnight, dogs wait for walks

under verdant stars and moon’s glow…

walking, deep breathing clearing sinus clutter,

I imagine winning the lottery, rolling in dough,

spreading the wealth around – in do-good fashion;

of course, I’d first have to purchase tickets…

Is that something of a metaphor?


Thursday, May 19, 2011

Vision History -- Poetry 2011

Scouring the scene, eyes scrap surfaces.

Time for magnifying glass illuminated

with stronger light… floaters, light flashes,

eyeball distortion my waggles aging vision.

My mother’s eyes magnified by trifocals were

soft and wistful; snapping into sharpness only

when struggling to form words after her stroke.

A life long patient soul so frustrated by trapped

words but her sputtering swears came out clear.

Wiping tears, she’d mutter it’s there but won’t come out…

Dad had me pack up her things, he couldn’t do it.

His eyes were glazed for months, soft and wistful.

The Lion’s Club collects glasses in good condition;

her crowded desk drawer contained decades of frame

styles and lens updates - her revision history…


Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Abandon Words -- Poetry 2011

Corgi fur mixed with pink petals

form dusty bunnies…

dogs dance tossing more fur

to the wafting mix.

Moon peers through skylight –

primal calling,

dogs whimper;

primal calling,

abandon working on words.

Ignoring dust and grime,

I’d rather be walking in inked air

laced with silver…


Monday, May 16, 2011

I hate that when I go missing... -- Poetry 2011

I'm trying to find myself,

I was laid low recently…

not many have you seen me.

Managed to survive the worst

three day head pain since

Methuselah drank fermented

cups of pomegranate juice

on or about 1000 years ago.

At first I maintained that it was

the sun and/or the wind that made

me cry as broken as anyone

but once the fever ravaged

grey matter, I sunk into sleep

content that emotions weren’t depleted.

Scotch/Irish stomach managed

some hideous fake barfing sounds;

no further details are necessary…

suffice it to say, weird dreams prevailed

and I rose to the fevered conclusion:

“Successful people" is an oxymoron.


Sunday, May 15, 2011

Belief Barriers -- Poetry 2011

Water is my element.

Snorkel, mask and fins…

floating above belief barriers

searching for releasing keys;

gurgling voices saturate ears

repeating a chant: give up…

certain things are not possible.

Mermaids and sirens whisper

reminders of dehydration

shriveling some dreams or the

drowning of vintage choices.

Slogging back to dry surface,

curiosity spiked with dogged

determination crosses hot sand

without detriment to bare feet…


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Intimate -- Poetry 2011

Wall sconce soft light warms intimate room.

Anticipating favorites, semi-circle attendees

fall silent attentive listeners as guitarist enters.

Long hair pulled back matches her polished instrument;

blurred but radiant expression becomes mirrored on all.

Mesmerized through the set, souls carried from human foibles

to above and beyond – resonating souls in peace and harmony.

French doors swing open,

she gracefully joins waiting

muses – tall thin radiant beings –

rainbow gowns burst with white light…

dark hall glows from aura’s mass.

Turning, our eyes meet…

connecting beyond this space and time.

Do I remember any of the words?


Mahogany Chest -- Poetry 2011

Looking at the chest of drawers

Thinking of all the storage possibilities…

It would be perfect for that extra room.

Lifting it became difficult – it appeared

to rest on level wood flooring but…

the back legs are uneven due to a 6 inch drop.

You’d better get the sill and foundation checked…

Emptying the drawers to enable a lighter load;

amazing variety, shape and size, yet it was a

cohesive piece perfect for extraneous collections.

Heading to the pull down ladder, this heavy chest

had to transcend a rickety ladder…

Always puzzled with these extra room dreams…

What room am I not using?

Why is it within knowledge but a surprise?

What do I need store in an old mahogany chest

with so many fascinating drawers?


Soaking up the Night -- Poetry 2011

Leaning against the hall wall

then the door jam, the old cat

wobbles after us into enticing moonlight.

Corgis bounce and pull into the cool midnight air.

Mercury’s black fur appropriately

disappears into deepening shadows…

occasionally moonbeams highlight

his raggedy form trailing behind.

Prancing paws round the cul de sac, a quick

relief walk before dog biscuit snack and crating.

Returning to front yard, I spot moon struck cat eyes

soaking up the night before being carried back inside…


Alive but Dying -- Poetry 2011

Alone with my alive but dying cat…

thinking about future demise;

never far out of my thoughts

even on the sunniest day,

even in the moon washed night -

never black thoughts of woe is me…


How much can I overcome?

How much can I correct?

What am I leaving behind?

What am I bringing with me?

Hoping for a brain colonic

before leaving this container

to flush contamination…

confusion, misguided foolish thoughts.

Alone with my alive but dying cat…

I keep telling him to let go;

leave his worn out body behind…

I tell him I’ll always love him;

I wish him well on his journey.

Will someone do the same for me?


Thursday, May 12, 2011

Grace -- Poetry 2011


to the end

with or without grace…

ragged, wrinkled, half blind;

body muscles locked in place…

wandering from room to room

mentally touching, smelling,

seeing aura radiations.

Easily slipping, rapidly

slipping in and out of now;

half in and out of life…

spirit wavering despite decay.

one more day

closer to the end

one more day

to the end


Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Lunch -- Poetry 2011

toting temptation…

dangling plastic bags

favorite take-out at

5 to 10 dollars per day;

five days per week…

How many calories?

Desk job chubby sucks

down lunch between

phone calls,

filling out forms,

and swigs of coffee…


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Blind -- Poetry 2011

Cursed in this world…

that’s what she felt;

partly her own doing,

partly extraneous events.

Those unplanned incidents

swept her under the rug.

Sucking in the dust and pet fur,

walked on by those above,

she felt smaller than small.

Infinitesimally void of hope,

she wandered restless through

trance days and trace nights.

Her turmoil wake rakes sunrise;

ripples ravage sunset reflections;

renounced moonrise exists blind …


left -- Poetry 2011

Relinquishing emotional

control with non control

evens out discrepancies…

loving someone more

than loving oneself.

Sacrificing integrity

for foolish attraction…

lop sided teeter totter

love without redemption

stuck downward in foot

scuffed rut position…

delirious day-mare,

deciduous nightmare.

Lost in denial -

Lost in unrequited dimensions -

nothing left for others…


Monday, May 9, 2011

Heaps of objects -- Poetry 2011

Especially ignored were their ill suited gifts…

according to the receiver, their mother,

who perpetually rolled eyes heavenward.

There was no pleasing her;

her children gave up trying

going about their lives paying

little homage on holidays and such.

Neither children nor mother knew each other;

dismissed along with extended family,

current splintered existence came from

years of terse wedges inflicting their hearts.

No amount of love infused glue and clamps

could bind the irreparable polarization.

Celebrations of mundane to high days

elevated animosity causing more caustic

reduction to birth mother status… either way,

silent cancer swiftly desecrated her withered

womb filled with bloated spite; surrounded,

her trusted belongings touch a soured soul…


Sunday, May 8, 2011

Flipping -- Poetry 2011

Flipped to dry side,

drool dribbled pillow

soaked up dream words

curtained in first light.

Quiet snorts rack air;

internal alarm resounds.

Nothing advance preset,

a natural process to snore awake.

Uncontrollable, morning ascends;

light sours night sweat coating skin.

Thoughts preempt lingering

in cooling comforter;

elimination of dream time

flipped to expel damp side…


This life... -- Poetry 2011

Ambushed when she came home - super depressed

all of a sudden... she totally eyeballed the building's

charity donation bin for the near by food bank.

She could really use some paper towels and juice…

tempted but did not take said paper towels nor the juice;

she was not a horrible person…at least, not yet.

This life... the one right here - this is the one that she wanted.

Noting that the best trick she ever pulled was convincing

the world she didn't exist… so shy, she blended invisible.

Never even partially drunk, publicly lauded, or interrogated,

she ate, slept, watched movies and TV alone in her space.

A swim teacher who was also a former postal worker she laid low.

No one noticed her failure to appear; no pile of newspapers or mail

overflowed her stoop; not one person questioned her absence.

She had stood in awe of the pacific sunset as the rip tide roiled...


Friday, May 6, 2011

Remains -- Poetry 2011

Overseeing my kitchen, Dad’s remains sit above

routine chores or hemorrhaged good intentions…

his bird’s eye view includes occasional creative

disorganization and crispy charred foods relating to

overdrawn ambition loading my task plate too full.

Smoke drifts lazily toward skylight’s temptation

only to have freedom’s release thwarted…

dispersing silently into far corners brings meal

announcements via olfactory burnt recognition.

Dad was a task completer; one task at a time, none

of this doing ten things a once with haphazard results

that I’m infamous for as I manage maniacally… lost

in right brain activities, I surface racing through chores.

He would have diminished my house repair list quickly

making the home better than when it was shoddily built.

Glancing up to his perch, I apologize to his remains for

selecting such a defective abode knowing he trained me better…


Immediate Return -- Poetry 2011

Just when I thought I was done:

past the income tax forms,

past the applications, renewals,

past evaluations…

another thick packet rolls in.

Paperless society – not quite!

Pages of questions already dealt

with verbally or in prior forms…

no delay – no putting them off…

cover letter demands immediate return.

Three hours of creativity gone to inking

in required info; cramming answers into

too small an allotted space; printed words

deteriorate from clear to woefully inadequate.

Don’t they have these forms online?

Cut and paste is so much easier…


Hoods On - Umbrellas Up -- Poetry 2011

Rain slaps car windshields

coinciding with ring of closing bell.

Drop rivulets defy gravity

till collective mass brings them down.

Vendors force tired bodies into action

packing up their wares, loading vans/trucks;

end of another long ten to three day…

not counting hours before or after.

Puddles form, sidewalks darken –

spring held at bay by another dank

storm rolling off the Pacific Ocean…

hoods on and sissy umbrellas up,

shielding winter weary residents against

angst arguments with mother nature…


Shrine to Stupidity -- Poetry 2011

How do you sweep out mistakes

holding back your forward progress?

You too can create a proper

Shrine to Stupidity…


an honoring ceremony


idiotism of blind love,

failing to say no,


other seismic sized personal faults…

this includes a


of an

illuminated trophy case of non-passivity

so that

life lessons will not be lost in denial.


Scattering Mom & Dad -- Poetry 2011

Mom left a list…

Crystal Lake, CT;

Brewster Mud flats, Cape Cod, MA;

Okemo Ski Mountain, Rutland, VT…

but Dad buried her ashes

at the family plot behind her parents,

behind a baby brother she never knew…

Appalled… Why did you do that?

Mom wanted to be scattered…

Shrugging sadly, I couldn’t do it…

I’d need Ninja stealth to uproot that box…

imagine slipping between headstones

dressed in black shovel in hand.

OK, I suppose I could pay a fee to remove

the box but there is also a flight back East.

Lack of a budget is stopping me from making

things right but before I pass over I plan

to pursue scattering Mom and Dad…


Thursday, May 5, 2011

Click the X -- Poetry 2011

Dropping off of the face of the planet

for two weeks, she planned to sprint to the end.

Apologizing in advance of her disappearance

from normal routine communication lines…

then again would anyone even miss her?

I'm sorry I won't be hanging out

with all you cyber lovelies…

Would they miss her tweets, comments, blurbs?

Never keeping score but at the same time where

were their responses?

Wish me luck…

One last check before withdrawal;

one last comment before clicking the X…

see you suckers at the finish line

or would she?


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

totally impromptu -- Poetry 2011

Made up for two sleepless nights

by sleeping 13 hours straight…

wish the mattress wasn’t a fatigue valley.

Listing with creaking lame back along

with the reward of some weird dreams

that I scarcely remember… something about

overrated forays that collapsed into quirkiness;

totally impromptu status opposed to normal

apathetic Monday state of mind numbness.

Paper napkin removes embarrassing black

poster paint and soap all up in a mouth spewing

black bubbles aimed at washing away potty language…

oddly specific request of another human being –

parental duty to deter naughty verbiage in their young.

Waking up this morning with excessive doorbell

ringing – actually it was the phone ripping

apart the last voracious strange dream!

The most noble sleep deprived reprieve…

ranks up there with the classic two part parental

command: Don’t eat your boogers…

and don’t ever feed me your boogers…again!


Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Your eyes… -- Poetry 2011

Usually sparkling intrigued by all you see,

your eyes appear brushed by sorrow;

features display inordinate weariness.

Sitting next to you, her being is vibrant.

I can’t stop staring at this close-up photo;

part of a current newspaper article,

overall sadness seeps into grainy

grays while your lips hold firm.

Having fallen into dimness,

soul draws down pulling light in…

mouth muscles tighten,

eyes dishonored

exhibit a discourse of discomfort…


Superbly sublime -- Poetry 2011

Cure the cold bug…

bore it to death with non stop daytime TV.

Snooze, snore and drool!

It's probably as good as any other remedy…

certainly will put you to sleep for sure.

Soaps are mostly gone;

judge shows rule the airwaves…

unless you’re into Jerry Springer.

Far too noisy a show to nap through with

all the yelling and crowd chanting;

Couch potatoed in place, tissues, tea,

comfy blanket, pajamas and pillow…

at least one cat clinging to innate form

between sneeze eruptions and flying

soggy used tissues missing trash bin.

Superbly sublime sinus corruption

outpouring to daytime TV…