My sweaters are no match:
When I pull them tight
Against my chest,
They do not stifle
My Great Unrest.

And when it starts- the clanging ring,
I crawl into the space between
My 40-year-old daydreams
And a yellow shelf
Which, when nailed,
Propped a Bunny
That couldn't prop itself.

And yet,

At least it had the courage to say:
I NEED HELP!