You may have noticed I’ve been planning in your head,
flashing a badge. Home is a test pattern across an all-humanity
life span — everybody under anesthetics, lunar waxing
credited to lexical whipsaw. A foot of sleet
through the window, the surf comes to mind in
reverse as if a long eyebrow, roughened

over & oh, hold it, we did this already —
this is not a test I’ve been holding out to you
for you