are you making your bed?

yes, i am making my bed
tight corners tight sheets 
tight wadded assholes outside my door

the facsimile of tomorrow is the faxshawty of today
on the mirror mirror in her hand for 10 hours no pay

yes, i am going to skool
seated in rows seated in columns
seated in a bed of asphalt and concrete

old soul more like anachronistic ghost
speaking multisyllable is now a foreign language 

yes, i am paying the taxes
funding the crack house across the way
funding my elected representative's twelve vacays

highly regarded amongst a couple dozen online
but i'll probably ban my children from the internet

yes, i am checking my email
all dozen burner accounts
all dozen identities of a straight white fascist

my great grandfather was an orphan of war
i sit at a desk all day and can't afford healthcare

yes, i am loving you
especially you who feels my pain
especially you whom I am called to 

if only making my bed made it easier to love
but i've hardly ever done it so i wouldn't know 

yes, i am lying again
to myself and to you
to my faith and to my works

but God knows i will keep trying again and again
and yes, He knows surrendering is hard

“Making your bed” in Salvador Dali style (DALL·E 2)