not much leavening
to this lump
does it draw breath
the phone rings
fred the neighbor
never leaves a message
wanting only to sing
amourous clamourous
love songs
into the receiver
o neighbor true
she's sunk on the sofa
she knows it is you
calling
o the earth is weary
the earth is heavy
the gravity presses down
the Zoloft stunneth
her head weighs like lead
the phone she shunneth
her body is dead
but still her spirit runneth
her neighbor relentless
he
describes
numerically
nothingness and oneness
<--mutinifni 01010101010101010 infinitum-->
she laughs convulsively
o yes, this is Love, sweet Love
and a head that understands
perfectly
can't be gone for long