Enough inside jokes,
let's move this bash out
under the stars. Heap up

I awake, three in the morning, sweating
from a dream of possums.
I put my head under the fuzzy swamp of cover.

After midnight, lying in bed thinking of you,
I heard a squeal, and let the cigarette fall
From my fingers like a petal, as I watched the window open

I understand:
for years, perhaps, you have lived
underground. Handling only