Humanity is crouched

beneath the table

where my glass leaves

a ring.

Dust is wedded to success.

In the humanness that

roams the rooms –

a forgettable act of kindness

in skivvies.

My inner warden

patrols beneath my skin.

Lowly instinct,

leave your hiding!

Your enemies have finished counting,

And have hung your better

Natures from the doorframe

with a steel cable.

I remember the elevator it

Came from,

Dipping the car

Up and down from the bottom

Of the hospital to the top

Like ladle to bowl.

Lemons in the kitchen

are twisted.

The dishwasher is broken,

But the knives have been

Sharpened on teeth.

Out from under the furniture

Comes my neighbor’s

Selfishness and my rage.

I finish my soda.

This should be good.

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