Something Vague

it's getting warm
hotel signs are clear.
matted hair strangles broken windows on
the sides of office buildings.
your purple curtains brush away the
devilish spiders that
hide in cracks and corners and
leave trails in your eyebrows.
nude folk tunes scribble lines
into your brain
overlapping, overlapping, contrast for some texture
midnight news headlines of fatherless
babies and tragedies and babyless fathers
and where does the world go?
jars of coke and pudding and dirty fingernails
crowding shelves in the big kitchen of
your heart don't know where else to
crack but the milky kitchen floor,
and the sour coma lets itself in with the
garbage man. three days on water and
tea but we've learned to never let
the secrets out. the fruit is insipid, why
quiet the earthquakes to build a house of cards?