I.
got a riddle 4 u mate.
yeah, I’m filling in:
sphinx’s on sick leave.
got her riddles rattled.
“What goes in the morning.
Who gets up. Who does
anything. Who’s coping?”
anyway. I got one about
the Apocalypse:
what does the end
of it all look like?
it looks like tomorrow
happening over again.
aren’t you sick?

II.
taking a shift in Delphi
next. Apollo speaks thru
the bunny now. a bunny
feathered and duck-footed
& as daft as this is. my
presence is a sonnet. I
keep my dreams close:
I wanna put my landlord
in a jar. give me a flat
to keep my thoughts in.
pls. anything. my sphinx
is so tired. I love her.
let us have this. let me
keep her safe.

[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Katherine Prevost during our annual Kickstarter.]