no more jupiters

no more jupiters. fresh out of those things that go bump in the night
because they all work the dayshift now. keep losing socks. mothballs
get religion and the frogs that croak shakespeare 
never eat the fireflies. 
to mesmerized to
bother.
 
slow pruning of the gills that allow you breathe under suspicion.
new webs in your pantry like goth cotton candy 
or strange parachutes 
frozen in time.

like your prayers
before they
hatch.