6 rooms to wait in

- snows in two days,
last of the seeds have blown across the street.

what else can I shut off? the home's a bluffing canter,
belt is tracking on the pulley
coins are spilling off the sides and making piles
altered postcards mailed to my realtor
the free dust spins and locks to silence
the fascia's hoisted quick and buried
my body is out there in the world with no protection
empty space is a hard killer
the walls are braced with bones
the money in my wallet is black