creature comforts

If love is the answer

did i ask the wrong question?

maybe i should've asked

what it smells like on mt. vesuvius

as your feet begin to slip on the rocks

or why movie montages of derelict travel

look so clear and

posed?

Maybe i need to stop asking questions altogether

and, instead

lipread the conversations of --- strangers

feel the white noise of

the world passing by without me

like a whisper in my ear

or, maybe just

scream in a dark basement

and hope i hear an echo

(proof that I'm real) the narrator would interject--

because how it feels, 

is that

i'm posed like in a coffin

buried between lines of sturdy black text

pressing their sharp helvetican corners into 

the front and back of me

until there is no space left in the margins