Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

NPR in Early Morning

Fake headlines or true, I can’t tell, for it’s early morning,
earpods, from the dollar store, itchy in my ears,
near me, he snores, moving like a lethargic wave;
but all the same, desperate truths are in coalition.

Chaos! The radio reels with chatterboxes on straight whiskey,
superegos, wise as serpents, slither on my pillow,
and without Googling, my blotched, cobwebbed cognition
roasts on slow fire, dripping fat while I pull the duvet to my chin.

Utterly frivolous! I can't, no way, fill in the blanks
when they turn into black holes or sinking evil,
but instead, I’ll let voices bluff me with Corelli and Bach
I'm easy that way, and never over-sure.

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Prompt: Wait, wait, don’t tell me!

"Wait, wait, don't tell me!" is a radio talk-show with games, supposedly on the high-brow side, and mostly mental (in either meaning of the word).