Frank Sinatra

Uncertain where words
wander off to
my bed beneath me
red walls speaks on my behalf
books unread and
Corners awaiting cosmic
weight
Only existence
could feel so
Heavy
so permanent
Like matter suspended
between seconds
A bomb to birth skin
mother weeps-womb steeps
a rotation with planet x
scratches in the vinyl
better that way-weight hung
from soul
old speakers croon
"The Man" cranks volume
tuned like a howl-a felines meow
the fat cat
hasn't swallowed all of it
still some sunshine left
I keep mine inside
hung from brittle bones