The Not Mating is Fat Back Making

The not mating is fat back making

In our war torn threadbare dregs

Lofted unswept cage,

A velograph for directing thought

A heated pad for the time you fell down

Because intoxication makes the floor slippery

We’re set to only witness each other and keep the door to the outside secure

Our embarrassed untidy places pretend we cannot see them

While secretly wishing we might have a spring cleaning

But we hold the winter long full fearing

If ever the decision to unravel the futlyar arises

We may find layers of cloth sewn in with skin

And require years of professional tailoring

Just to get back to what was once simply original sin

*Futlyar (футляр) – case

Ref. “человек в футляре” – Man in a Case by Chekhov

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