My cat
 over the garage,
 my laptop
 just that.
 And my washing's out,
 memory foam's aired,
 and I want to join my cat so bad.
 And my other cat
 found a bee hive
 and won't let it be
 but it's not funny
 to them.
 It's been so hot
 though it's early May.
 Smoking baby blue,
 delicate veins of green,
 and purple hangs down from above.
 The motion of bees,
 spasmodic wooden slaps,
 and birds calling one and other out.
 Acrid, day-old, oil smoke,
 in my hair or t-shirt,
 rum stuck up my nose,
 and alone I was king
 where my everything spun as one,
 and I want it
 but I lost it
 when you came back.
 But I love you.