The moon needn't be in
The poems today.
The bulb in the room
Often feels betrayed.
The swish of cool breeze
Needn't hail,
The ceiling fan between
2-3 asks, how does it
Matter if Americans can't
Catch the reference?
Bring in that shabby pillow,
Your bag and socks.
The bucket too wants
To be hosted here.
The first time someone
Debuted a TV,
Broke all the rules of
Victorian-era poetry.
Bring in your dirty
Underwear- there are
No rules. Sanitization
Of your words is just
Pretense. Not Poetry.