does this happen to you, too? | poem

poetry

Work all day, sit down at night

Between groove indentations

that know rounding, full and well.

Dog fur and warm blanket

cushions that always wait.

Still objects, unmoved by absence

until home. Plum drunk on cheap wine

wait alone, until much later

for something more

than news at ten.

There is a lateness,

unawake hours, time spent drooling

on a sofa