there are no pirates here.
only al green and a lack of voice mail.
there is a vacuum for in case of glass
breaking and a need for tighter prose
that last bit was going to read
“and a millipede bigger than my thumb
trying to cross a corner.”
there are phone messages
we have yet to listen to, and in the corner
are paper bags
full of cans.
on sunday night around here it is garbage
night and this means we take all the things
we no longer need and put them on the curb
where someone will take them away