Accidentity

The heart and ears
have had enough

so so same music
the overpop

of frogs in throats
croaking every breath

even the filter of walls
echoes the creaks

the back of the same
unmoving head phlegmatic

the solitude of your tastes
are louder than I can take

the pinstripe of your emotional range
the slack slouch of your shoulders

the cloud in the kitchen
the snores that struck oil

the cleanshaven excitement
and the monastery of onan groanin'

the broadcast of dull cat-got-your-tongue
the predictability of your seductions

that never reached the upper atmosphere
got the engine but no fire

and it will have to do
because you're the foil I see daily.