Lay Off Pt.2

“Stop all the clocks, shut off the telephone.”
-W.H. Auden, “Funeral Blues”

and tomorrow creeps in so smooth
i almost wrap my collar around my neck
the sun is a black dot & i am so trialed
so warm is the bed I slip solemnly in
a siren warns of shadows in the clouds
my alarm casts a shadow overhead
my family have been forgiving figments
standing over me like anglers, aglow,
dad looks like JP suggesting i organize
if i can’t clean my room, i am worthless
i’ll clean my room when i’ve gotten up
time flies through the open window
and falls to a crack on the concrete
humpty dumpty with wifi capabilities
haha i laugh without smiling like in court
the jury is out. will the sun ever rise?

Justin Goodman earned his B.A. in Literature from SUNY Purchase. His writing--published, among other places, in Cleaver Magazine, TwoCities Review, and Prairie Schooner--is accessible from justindgoodman.com. His chapbook, The True Final Apocalypse, is forthcoming from Local Gems.