Making Plans

Let’s raffle off some business cookies,
a certain little dream house of the mind.
Cow spots and flying toasters everywhere,
like a ’90s computer, back when everything
was simple and the color of putty. Remember
those flesh-colored days (well, certain flesh)?
Let’s raffle it off, the continuing stream
of trout, a certain train that only stops
at certain stations where there are no seeds
of any kind, and nothing to be forgiven.
Let’s all wear blankets. Let’s all count mice
as if they were people, and ourselves
as if we were flesh-colored mice.

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