screed
as a wail.
pitch, angelic
at dusk. by moon’s
light, by a dimmer switch
nailed to a tree like jesus.
nature becomes us. let it
take back my living room
with grass and fungus and
tree branches knotting through
the flat screen and the attached components
for entertainment. for existence.
touchdown!
everyone will get what they want
in the end,
i promise.
