Sunk the glow and drowned in covers,
send for all your absent lovers things.
Looking lived in eating buttons,
Wink, just don't put your teeth on me.
Let the evening in the backdoor,
filled the room ceiling to the floor.
Grazed the poem and made it strange,
I wasn't born to be a skeleton.
grab your hat and fetch a camera.
Go on, film the world before it happens.
The sky is falling off the ceiling
while I'm tucking fibs into a cookie jar.
It's useless searching in the cupboards
when everything you have is on your back.