My cat drinks water    W               out of the sink 
next to a pile                  h              of bronze bullets & 
a turned-over bottle         a            of handsoap. 
The sun is on                      T         vacation for the night,
the moon, well,                  o          it just beams 
through the window          m          as if it were crowning me;
as if, yes, tomorrow          r           's noonday light
will soon be                        r         a cranium
fit for a king.                         o
It's nearly                           B         one o'clock
in the scorning                            & I'm thinking
of nineteen eighty-eight       i          with sweaty palms
as if I could be                   g         six years
-old all over again            s           mirroring              
a moment                   I                 a time
where                  N                     even at this hour
I long for                o                   replenishing
the years gone by.     n                 Thirty 
approaches            O                  quicker than
a Hello.                     f                Are the neighbors
as anxious as I?          M             No,
they sleep                W               & await their daily
shifts, they drift           o              & await their next 
ship                              r             as I sink lower,
lower into an undertow,      y       as if to mimick
the doomed Titanic,                   as if Possibility
were nothing more                      than a bank statement, 

as if Optimism clung                    to the carpet
like velcro,                                  where I flip through 
a worn diary                               of scribbled text,

taking it all in.