The interview


has crawled inside me

to heal.


Is this what we are?


Eyes open.

First light; I can’t go

back to sleep


but keep trying.


Crows holler

at the closed window.

The interview



in a spacious

public washroom.



for decades, until now.

White tiles



Paint chipped. Boxes piled

in corners.


“The thing is,

you won’t find better

dog owners.”


This is what I say.


I go downstairs

put wood in the fire

then back to bed.




2 thoughts on “The interview

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