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