napping…
one eye (the Left)
to the public’s people
naked
and the Other sliced by shadow
breathing inches into the
upper arm: of Me, hidden

this is me
dopey eyed for
a buffet of strangers (or “By”)
but all at the same time darting through
this intricate subway system
which is made by electricity
(the Right)

I can hear them
but they don’t exist on Sundays
eating socks
all cotton, all cottony
all laughing at themselves
but they can hear me hello
see my sock smile

I turns heads when I
turn my head
throwing the Other
into this big and old and big pot
simmering
the WU YU for flavor

“don’t stick to these goals” …

(a note to what you have to whisper
shaking into your ear
when falling into the Sleep)