when the creatures bump and buzz, nestle
into hair, eyes, ears
careless and kamikaze
like me on the bad days
this thing you have will exhaust you before you can tame it.
i am well aware of the risks
of trying to change what is already functional
and of the great taupe rush of a dim sunset
and of the milky way, so rarely seen downstate
i am aware that if i try too hard
the kamikaze haze will
settle in, like spirochetes
like silt
in this big, lovely house
the piles of guitars play themselves
the books are read
the food eaten
i am treading newly on what has always been.
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