Sinnerman

Up late on a Monday

behind the machine reaching for

something to hold back the rolling teeth

that come out of the walls at this time

the madness of the hours

the tear shape teeth that roll down the walls

the heartbreak bleeds just easy enough to keep alive

and fall asleep eventually

listening to Nina Simone

or counting the breaths of my dog

or remembering the lost years on nights

like this when the graves are fresh

and your dead watch you from your heart.