a boogeyman coated in moths assigns

each a person.

then boils deep blue milk--to digest

nightlights.

as he poses for sin at three a.m, in a

mansion of closets.

the life force of mustiness screaming

trespass, outed by storage's: no more

room!

our boogeyman makes himself belong.

muffles claws in shoeboxs--an

open mouthed simpleton's birthnights.

drip-dropping drool, the way a faucet

taunts a drain.

romping about as a ball of clothes, a

vintage-scented orbit highlighted by

his solar plexus.

the thrill of being discovered!

as he fantasizes of donating his brain to

science--the opened halves of his

bedtime story.