Most buildings are motels whispering the fluorescents’ benediction.
The moon sheds a dry soap.
A woman is asleep on the TV.
Everything’s covered in Saran wrap after use.
Rotary phones ring continually.
Motes of gnats sneeze from their receivers.
And when you answer you’ll answer, saying Don’t call me citizenunless you mean it. [End Page 100]
Matt McBride has published poems in Alice Blue, Diagram, FENCE, Forklift, OH, Meridian, Mississippi Review, Packingtown Review, and Pheobe, amongst others. Currently, he is an Assistant Editor for the Cincinnati Review as well as Memorious.org. His blog is email@example.com.