Furniture

There always is, man.
Ev’ry relationship.
Stuff we don’t wanna
own up to.

We ain’t the marlboro man.

*

That scent in the carpet?
Believe it’s urea.
Your rea? my rea?
Mens rea—had none,
asleep when I did it.
Makin me stomach-sick,
like bad barbecue.

Must’ve been on ambien.

*

There should be a presumption
against furniture:
if we don’t use it
it doesn’t exist.

Mother, come in and
save me like
a twister.

*

Storm kills twenty-seven,
epicenter Arkansas.

Avenues smattered
with broken trees,
mismatched tables,
and wet couches.

Is this price before tax
or against it?