you can make a poem out of a everything. I have my keyboard here and a piece of fabric from the bed bath and beyond catalog, fuscia green with specks of yellow -  
    green hazlemint coffee
and jug bottles line the table. I have a sharpie marker that doesn't work, and some cat socks on me- comfortable. a picture of a woman named Marie on the desk ;; a picture of a Shibanawa  illustration of a head with grey blood and the void of now
" sorry"
   it sounds good, and it feels good,  but what is sorry, if there's no accountability --
     I have no refuge in this storm, and you don't know me