A house, a dog, a couch, two cats: one
for each arm, another to hide from me.
Lear’s wife, of course, nowhere to be found,
but daughters here to pillage the old fool:
gathering dust on the fridge. Every
furniture as clocks burn on the mantle,
but I wake up and hit the town:
a Death Valley Flower
while a lost cousin, muse, otherwise drinks
a song called desertion: tremolo picked,
meet, right, and proper. The meat is jackfruit.
The king, Woman.
Tyler Wettig resides in Ypsilanti, Michigan. His latest chapbook is The Adult Table (Zetataurus, 2018). Tyler’s website: https://www.tylerwettig.wordpress.com.