On Being a Householder

I live inside of a machine

or machines. Every time one

goes off another starts. Why

don’t I go outside and sleep

on the ground. It is because

I’m scared of the open night

and stars looking down at me

as God’s eyes, full of questions;

and when I do sleep out alone

I wake up soaking wet

with the dew-fall and am

being snuffed at by a female fox

who stinks from being skunked.

Also there are carrion insects

climbing my private parts. Therefore

I would find shelter in houses,

rented or owned. Anything that money

can build or buy is better than

the nothing of the sky at night,

the stars being the visible past.

Source: Poems Seven: New and Complete Poetry (Seven Stories Press, 2001)