Life sucks: movement one

When the car left, the tree butterflies finally built cocoons.

The sun was a gentle gunshot that day.

Because the cocoons were wrapped in burlap

By halftime when we walked home.

You see I had a hold onto the cup with the writing on it saying,

“We are violent men taking the world by violent force.”

We used the desks in the office to crawl in the rafters to hide from the assembly.

And I put the mug in the coffee machine so everyone could drink hot tea with us.

Each coworker bought a mug, but the garage sale still lasted all month.

He never had a job, me that is, for he was still in bondage to a cocoon.

The yellow sleeping bags of thought shouted prayers every night.

While the air smelled like money

and sounded like wailing,

And we could see the taste of cherries.

Tomorrow we will be a better day

For we shall be

From inside of Jessie’s cocoon

In Vermont

A dog in a kennel owned by his aunts in law.