3:33

Here you are again, as faithful
to the muse as you can be.
You’ve taken off your shoes –
(ahh!) – review, anew, the calculable

constancy of speed three-thirty-three’s
November light pursues to plummet
into night. It’s gotten harder
to bend over to untie those shoes,

by the way. It’s gotten harder
to remain awake throughout the day.
But there’s that happy lunatic –
on cue – who shoos you on another

loopy ride – careening on this
quatrain to his crazy holy land inside.
He won’t abide your “but.”
He could give a you-know-what.

.