Helium can’t fix it anymore, this problem of mine.
Only temporarily can red wine.
Until morning comes flooding in, persistent day.
When I hide under layers of sheets, so many, I am an onion.
What if we return and notice everything we have known
Has been stolen, carried away. In broad day
Light. By men in white gloves, white coats.
With white hair and white ropes.
They’ve carried it out the doors we can almost still watch them run.
Dear men if you must, please, take it all. Be done.
Don’t leave behind a memory or a shadow
On the mantle, the picture frame, the perfume
Take it, shake it, and bake it.
Anything that will help your swelling caffeine, nicotine futures.
To wipe away those rags with tailoring of perfect inseams.
And mid-night summer dreams.
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