INVISIBLE IN THE HOUSE OF LOVE

What is the point of lying
unknown in an ex-
hausted bed when the
insane clocks whisper

softly to the graveyard’s shovel
to “go eat a carrot”
for the graveyard shift

and Cupid in his cloud runs
on everywhere ,
deaf to our sparrow prayers.
What am I going to do

with tomorrow eating
a peach again?
Suffer punishment

under the wide afternoon’s loaded gun
where the trees are a dove’s quiet grey.