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Who Wears the Jacket

March 1, 2011

I’m the only one in my head right now so

I’m comfortable enough to go to sleep.

The jacket is draped along the bed

unworn by me or another. The lights

are off. Save one. It’s keeping me comfortable.

The books on the shelf are unread as

in they’re not being read. Does it speak back?

Do they possess the tell-tail signs of

having given their knowledge away?

Am I alone in my head? The voices

of a thousand poets tinker at synapses

making me question my reasonableness

in myself.

I saw a painting by Jasper Johns

and I questioned my patriotism.

I am not my only voice

so I will not sleep well. I suppose

the jacket had a previous owner.