OINTMENT

the phone is at rest. just thinking about It.  
just simmering in interruptions-
like a rectangular kettle full of meddle 
and viral memes,
jeering at your 
mundane.

your shower is a long hot cascade of thermodynamic therapy, hitched-
to a moment alone in the right way… still sleepy.
your coffee is blacker than you. and the sun climbs over
the arugula taffeta- 
that is your front lawn at dawn, 
with the peach-green sky
doing orange things 
where the blue 
should be

as you fetch 
your cream
for your 
scar.