MORNING SONG

again i check
the morning news
for tactical nukes 
& planet fall
or for triffids

& celestial intervention

& not finding anything

new there since midnight

i take my pills
& drink my coffee
sat at the easel

& start to try 

to make the canvas

& the summer clouds

i had painted there 

look less bloody awful

while theres still air

& a sun to see

ABOUT PAINTERS OVERALLS

 

i

cremated

blue overalls

on consecrated ground

hoping

to find them 

ready & clean & waiting

on a reserved celestial hook

because
i
worry
about
how
naked heaven must be

if we dont even
have our bodies to wear