Song for the Salvaged

Connecticut is calling with the latest update
on your fate. The tea turns milky grey
in a way that feels significant. Disregard
tomorrow's bombshell threat, make cat calls
at the rabbits who live beneath the shed,
seduce the laborer into labor. Promote
friendly debt into savage debt, credit
yourself with another day well handled.
Help yourself to the handle. Don't slip.
The roof drips and forms a continual
rink. Carry on carrying. Cast a spell
that just can't be helped. The smoothing
stone of routine softens the howls
to barely audible mews and dulls
your jagged doubts. The thoughts
of being held by whatever you love
hold you like a joey in its pouch.