Joan McNerney

this blur of hours, this waking sleep sometimes in & then out of this world we are dragged across another night

black wells roll thru eyes … trains whizzing at 11 o’clock 1 o’clock winds trace tree shadows over walls

on that white trapeze afraid to let go afraid to drop to nightmares lodged in corners shrunken wide-mouthed

cars creep down streets as first weak light s t r e t c h e s over roofs & the radio provides some likely song

there is no time to find what is lost we march like tin soldiers in an ungodly war with eyes slit at 6 o’clock

dry mouths, throats burning, dazed as sirens screech past another morning warning of another day of quiet storms

just want to crawl back to bed, never come out become a turtle covered by my hard shell

nothing appeals to me not even food, just coffee coffee more coffee to keep awake

another hermit crab who carries its home sickened by shorelines poisoned by oceans

after all those storms diseases, accidents climbing through menacing years … dumb-struck

i must keep going can’t quit but would rather slither off into some dark cave like the spotted salamander