Nicotine Suite (No.10)

poetry'd broken reader assists. when
passing over into revery
check for the nightlight, it might
appreciate it. label the envelop
you keep your secrets in something
uninteresting, 'auto parts' is good,
then slip it under the ice tray
in case there's a fire. my mind
went blank there for a moment
all I could think was this mechanical hum.
drum fingers on brick. place can
against forehead for contrast.
this poet came up and asked if I was
and what I thought of this of that,
waiting, as it turns out, to get pissed
that I think what I think. this is a
non-paying job with questionable
bennies. watched the remake,
Let Me In - not bad, I feared the worst.
I'm too tired for poetry right now.

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