12/30

Agoraphobia

I was born in a well.
I will die in a silo.
The span between
feels wide and vague.

I'm a queer V afloat
in the soup-dark sea,
too common to do much
but grow obtuse.

Even zipped inside
my sleeping bag,
I feel alone. I dream
of a satellite heaven

for people with good
grammar. Nomal heaven
uses it from time to time
for conferences. I go

to Nordstrom and try
on whatever
necktie is most
expensive, and feel

for a minute

surrounded.