Whatever then. This nest of ours holds thick
together with saliva, silkworm-worried
and strong. In TV there’s an agony
beyond us. The reality show I like
Is the one about sloths, a hour on Tuesday
When no one among us can move. What if I miss something, is the constant refrain
It’s the eighth season of MASH but the war won’t end.
Hey, it’s the ratings, stupid: eat your Kraft Dinner
With wieners mixed in, and think, think on the cheese
Not me. Hold thick together, grass and twigs,
Scraps of paper, grocery lists, all my crap poems.