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Morning dead thoughts, Sept 1


this morning I step out onto my balcony,
sirens rage in the distance.
the musicians next door wake up with hangovers.
I stand watering yellowed parsley.

this morning I miss the deadline for the day,
so I slip on high waist long johns and roll a cigarette
while the ambulance comes barreling down my block
and my cats turn my curtains into dinner noodles.

robots on wheels carry human beings to the office
all while I miss the deadline for the day.
I stand in the trees, I stare at September.

Now that summer is over, I'm back
and I'm tired of red and orange before it's here.
I'd rather watch love water
sunflowers in the afternoon.