WingedSerpent in the high and low corners
illumintaed by
the particles of dust
that ride the warmth of the sunbeam through the little gap in my blinds (i'm shutting out the sun)

it's not like anyone's coming, and at least the spiders are company (although they're not much for conversation)

there is a mouse between my wall and the garage, his skittering in the hollow space is the litany in this entropy shrine

took down the mirror, that guy on the other side of it just kept shooting these dirty, recriminating looks at me
(yeah, well i guess he would know)
will cobwebs are them things between old womens legs 030209
what's it to you?
who go