broken spectacles
shadows dart in
the bottom of drawers
a panic stricken
sense of encroaching
agonies unbespoke

the sun came out
to be swallowed whole
by the incidental clouds
as the men march in
bright orange brandishing
implements of lawncare
the screams of leaf blowers
a morning siren for
the disenfranchised dreamer

my pillows are bloated
overfilled with the
whispered declarations
from half asleep lips
murmuring loving intent
through the aether
connecting hearts unable
to find true rest

broken spectacles hang
crooked on an ugly face
the coffee is cold
as the lawn care degenerates
shake the world with
business-like efficiency
as the meeting drones
in the muted heart
of this insular sorrow