It's too white in here,
I've covered the wall with postcards
I could have sent,
with pictures of Christ and the musular system.
It's still white, but not clean blankwhite.
When I went away
I saw that room,
So white,
filled with ever fattening people,
ice cream, pay telephones, screaming
doors with no knobs
and locks
that required a small studied casual army to open them.
That was a room about to be mine.
It looked so white and clear.
I would have to place ghosts
in the lacking place of pictures.
I walked with many eyes.
They said they had to stare in the steel bathroom.
The eyes gave way to other eyes.
Eventually I returned naked to a recent bed.
My mother said
how delicate I was how excitable.
They let me go back to rent.
Back to my pictured room
that is white
but not enough.
10:24 PM on 10/28/97, originally 1986