three forty one am

a poem by Zachary M Hodson

she whistles out her nose

each draft draws a dry line cross the nape of my neck


my eyes might as well be sewn open

the lcd flickers until it does not


three forty one am again

a number for which i will forever make special note


but that has nothing to do with her

there is a doorbell in my house


& a carbon monoxide detector

i cannot remember the last time either made a noise


both of these things please me

which is remarkable


i am not easily entertained these days

frumpy is the new aloof


& i was hard hearted before it was supercilious

[much as i was credulous before i was super silly]


my mind works discovery tunnels through the darkness

they turn to swaddle me like a ball of yarn


the obedient percolation of a yonder cave rill

implores me to dive deeper


count down the nine rung ladder

to the basement under grandmothers house


& eventually to sleep

Don’t forget to stop by the GUA Shop

GUA SHOP