bed time

 

at the risk of pajamas

i let the mice have their dinner

no sweeping

let there be baby dolls

of many shapes and colors

in hazardous locations

underfoot

some with eyelashes

some with eyes that roll back in their heads

in the gap between the fridge door and the floor

beside the toilet

they disappear in patterned rugs

with their polychrome charm

becoming more butterflies

becoming more vowels in camouflage

if they had teeth

they wouldn’t brush them

if they had chocolate

they would eat it late at night

the risk is great

that they are playing party games

at the expense

of freshly laundered napkins

that they smoke our japanese incense

and laugh at our pictures