The living room shrinks to the slanting 

autumn daylight/ a Bollywood musical 

rolls through the hills   

at the lowest volume/ the lovers presumably 

kiss behind the rosebush 

on the screen/ love, a trimmed 

scene/ they’re breeding like rats 

a balding man screams 

at my teacup from the front 

page of the daily/ the chicken sits for hours 

on the countertop/ lime and peppers 

burn through muscle and fat, a tendering 

of death/ the sweet gloom 

of sundown, a city of grenadine/ I am left 

with the losing end of a wish- 

-bone/ who knew nationing 

was a masonry 

of smallness/ the dominion 

of your smile 

widens with threat/ nevertheless