-when stranded at the borderline-

why shouldn't I lay in bed through the light of day?

why change the status quo's punctuation before sundown?

maybe the middle-ground can be breached before darkness,

setting its own determinations upon the face of the world.

first interlude

after the cat died the mouse had a family again.

they hid behind the gas stove until I assured them

it was safe to come out.

soon afterward the poison took effect.

I scooped them up with the dustpan and shuttled

them as a family group into the woods.

that’s a ceremony.

the trashcan isn’t.

they have their mother’s eyes.

the little ones resemble a joey of opossums,

who in time the interstate will bequeath to them

the deaths they were properly destined for.

second interlude

It's true. I may have read too many poems,

and that's a situation which can’t be good for anyone.

but inconsistencies imposed by a lack of sleep continue.

I could be dreaming. it’s an hour to sundown.