A rats nest of tangled wires for electronics long forgotten
I left a banana on my kitchen counter, it is now rotten.
Reminding me of the bananas of my youth
when I played a whore,
in Egypt with a tourniquet and some cotton.
The mail is yellow and faded and spilling out of the box
And I’m kicking myself for not changing the locks
It seems though my sister has pawned my guitar
For a baggie of shards or some sticky black tar.
A Rubbermaid tote full of “video head cleaner”
And floppy rubber dongs I used to jam in my hole
A faded photo of grandma, so long since I’ve seen her
May God rest her soul
About forty feet of chain for the sling
This and that and some other thing.
Is it time? It is time.
It is time to clean up the house for spring.