Sunday Afternoon on the Kitchen Floor

Sunday afternoon on the kitchen floor
beyond comatose, zombie-fried
a barely-kicking being

it's been a very long, cold week

listening to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds
singing about Hannah Montana,
Miley Cyrus, and the Higgs-Boson
Nick is such a shameless name-dropper

the floor is colder than my body
means that I'm still alive, right?

a friend sends me a text…
"In Touch Magazine says:
Kim Kardashian butt
won't stop growing."

I think, "yes, that is a problem…"

I text back: "Yikes! Look out Kanye!
Butt-Crack!"

That ends the conversation.
The refrigerator wobbles and sort of titters,
it's always got something to say.

Time clicks along. 
Nick's voice
wraps around me
like a dark cloak.