shut doors closed windows hiding
play the music loud enough
only I hear it

going out for
only essentials
like flour and oil

cigarettes
beer and kitty
kibbles

shut-in by my own choices decisions
say nothing all day
just watch

how the web
in the corner
has grown  a foot

down farther into more
of the room nearing
the windowsill

now

the ashtray overflows
the black plastic bag
comprising

my day to day
spills out to reveal
all my decadence

but my mind calm sane
I see, must  be a tinge
of madness

in it, isn't seeking
or talking to corners or zephyrs
or back at the tv

just sitting here like the spider
in the corner
of a room

that needs painting
and a lot of bleach
to remove

this deadness
and the flies
bothering