The Road Bless Thee

Black tourmaline will you guard this house

from what will surely become my mania,

a paperweight upon the matching note of my synth 

patched in sympathy with the neighbour's HVAC

whose dull Sunn O))) scatters me throughout

the kitchen so eager to suck down the dregs 

of space where the vibes can't get me,

will you keep these cards of devotion on the shelf

from fluttering down like the snake's confetti 

because the intentionality of the clutter on 

the shelf is too much, these cards I've read

and will read and the books I'll never read

but curated as an idea of who I tried to be.