last glimpse

the same tired veteran

passes, head down

bucket hat eternal

between his thoughts

& the suburban sun

the annual invasion of

wood borer bees, & me

gently redirecting their ire

at my deck sitting presence

with a brave hand

the hum of five different

mowers, a struggle to have

conforming lawns, grasses

of matching heights, edges

clean, flowerbeds decluttered

this is what I imagined of life

an unending drone, basking in

monotony, alone inside while

joggers passed & waved to the

appearances of peace

this is my last week here in this

happy neighborhood with its happy

joggers and happy lawn care &

(maybe not so happy) bees all

baking in the glow of safety

and I couldn't be happier

no space

there are walls here

in between the walls,

surfaces of silence 

deflecting silence

tangled wire has no

room to unravel so it

spools larger & presses

us down into furniture

it's all a mess & we 

pick up our feet wordlessly

without so much as 

existing

dance close to all these

edges to escape the telling,

that this civility has become 

exhausting

I have every right &

none at all to feel

any of this