Silent House, 4 A.M.

The air is dense and complicated
it's pink it stains the eyes pink
a blood glow to the aftermath of love
is the strain of repetition hearty
and whole the carpet feels rough
under my feet light streams
from the indicators like an indicator
on an elevator relates the floor
to the passengers in a basement say
while playing the balance game of Wii
while my father sleeps in a chair
like it was a plan and we're all just reading a script
her brown hair looked so healthy
I wouldn't stand a chance with that nurse
seething under the glow of tubes the way
life is complicated or medicine is complicated
you can't question someone's memory
when they don't remember not remembering
a swan in his neck one night vs. another night
the safety pin of dry air is worth a lot
if you can find the worth I know you can
because I invented it.