There was something once
but you’ve forgotten what.
The hours yawn by
like open coffins.
You smile
and clean your teeth
with the Blood of the Lamb
and a sanitary plastic brush.
Life is simple
and always has been:
The parts that don’t fit
are put back in the box
like that extra bolt
the factory includes.
Occasionally a rust spot
appears on the iron lung;
it’s the work of a moment
to scrape it off.
Really, it’s better not
to ask too many questions.
