A breezeless kite,
On the beds edge,
Daydreams in a coma -
With Jazz
For my ears,
And jelly
To sweeten -
All my guts
Spilled out
Like sour milk,
And my thoughts
Filled up
Like some closet
Of old cardigans,
Woolen, soft
And ugly
In this dead heat -
And somewhere
A cardboard-town
Is falling apart,
On top of itself
In the rain -
Oh, what I'd give
To be a supernova
Or just a kite
Flying in the breeze.

-Jamie F. Nugent