A weather report reads
the temperature of your lower lip,
plump, curved, and volcanic red
in the evening light. Disposable camera days.
The dinner table set.
I walk the extra plate, fork, knife
back to the cabinet
while stuffing the napkin
in my back pocket.
A potted plant wilts in the winter months.
I sing to it, but only at times
when I feel like myself.
My backpack has been empty lately
except for a foreign receipt
to a toothbrush,
and a candy bar.