it’s like the world won’t let me in

my teeth rake the radio like a sieve at the heart of midday
straining the kelp beds of the horizon for crystalline krill
dulling the pain of our daily dread with a happiness
made of cyclones and Lincoln Logs.
i usurp my last breath. my tundra is sincere.
i go nowhere in a single bound.
and it's like the world
won’t let me
in.