red boxes over my house

blocks of color
red in particular
not circular but
square and
they hover
with an odd
variable hum
emanating from
within their depths

REM rests casually as a
memory in my mind on a
sofa playing ITEOTWAWKI
acoustic and with meaning
and red boxes pop up over
the land, frightening all the
humans and i feel fine.

friday night poetry with no
meaning or measure nor
beat nor form. a trea-
sure for sure if you
feel the words,
surrender
emotion,

and
close your
eyes