inside the fractured memory of an automobile,
the waxing and waning of the spoon,
upon a timeless piece of mind furniture,
brings me into the new room.
silver soldiers sit on shell-shocked haunches
tarnished and puzzled-
not as alert as they once were.
meanwhile gravity in the room makes lightheaded
messes of everybody, including me.
static electricity makes hairs stand on end.
the luck pond has been drained
leaving behind seaweed
and sick kids on the mend.
the morning light is welcomed with sighs
and great mountains of cereal
while my fuzzy tape deck
is trying its hardest to make friends sane
and friends of friends become friends
and bones warm on week nights.
dance moves differ depending on the day
and the amount of abandon.
you are more careless than me.