
-freelance writer, editor
& published poet-
Alexandra S. Thompson
Sleeping Accommodations
cool the singe
cannot, I body diseased, furtive
hide beneath loose clothing.
I must lose myself in my work
to my work, but I cannot, it eats
away, to wake in daze catatonic,
each morning & remember
no sleep, just a
dizzy fall into darkness, &
drugged dreams. For—
—I have no
room of my own, just
temporary shelter in a house
run by 3-legged cats that
can’t chase all the brown,
bloodfeeding bugs crawling in my
own bed, yes
wanting for the flesh,
breakfastlunch&dinner in three
bites.
making a parasitic
living— lorryia formosa’s marks
burn less— “scabies,”
sailor-speak little red dots
flame at night on skin.
mother keeps her eyes covered.
in 1917, life cost 25 cents if you
were poor.
today the same, replaceable snake
swallows little girls in red
swimswuits dip bitten toes into
soiled swimwater as a sparrow rubs
against the ground, cleansed by dirt.