cardboardroom

My office is not set to rights or oval
where I sit to shit, or drink. It isn’t
in a house even-- & not a white

one, but I never sent none to war neither. It
weren’t in my head to be anyone, or evil.
I ever said otherwise, I’s doubtless homesick

for a stretch. Never pined for big or chosen
like a president does, already box-fit
in those suits. I’ve my own plot to shovel

big enough so it’s cozy, &me-- good&civil, &dead.