friendship

friendshiphands
trapped between floors
this room of silence
so causally entered
day to day
up and down
the floors
boxed residences
also known as
the size of a someone else’s foyer
as an entrance
to a minds claustrophobic
denial
the burning numbing cold
of no one knows I’m here
the shriek of being alone
talking to a speaker
manned by personal
impersonators working
for deceased bureaucracies
apparatchiks of dead communist states

once home
insects
invaders
scurry to find
their places
like musical chairs
on a stove top
these roaches
my friends
they know their place
the smell
of African curry
of latent unwashed pussy
beneath colorful robes
these adornments
traces of the past year
wet muddy minus the vacuum
of my latest insincerity
I know the watchers
reverse watch looking
through the television
programming each of us
with Iphone frequency
false appendages of another’s
banal consumerism
forces rising
as socialism on
my favorite TV space drama
where money hunger and want
are things of the past
make me a bottle
of Jack

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