A bottle cap on the highway like our sun
in all the vastness of this empty place
where shoes melt to the ground no matter
how you spend your time walking around.
I can’t compare dry pasta noodles
to the bones of squirrels crushed like
candy on the inside our of mouths,
but they are everywhere on the road
this morning making tire tracks
bright red in every direction.
The flag is fraying at its edges but no one
bothers to replace it since it’s working fine
enough to save the time that it would take
to make it better.
I know the numbers aren’t good, in fact
they’re barely even showing up at all,
but what is zero but the fulcrum
between going forward
and allowing things to fall?
An old man in a hoodie with ripped off
sleeves can’t get his keys out of his pockets
to unlock his front door darkly while his
porch light flickers teasing all the moths.
The clock inside is broken so he has no
idea how long he’s been away for, but
the T.V. is on playing music videos
of the old songs long forgotten by
the new screens still projected
like a pattern splitting outward
from the wallpaper.

One thought on “Wallpaper

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