room tone + a muse in its own miserable shape

Kristin Peterson
room tone

it is the space here where there are one thousand silences
each countable each inventoried each silence misplaced in the wrong cupboard
it is here in this space where the doorways guard each room from the others
the color spectrum is forbidden from using the milk or the butter
the sinus of this home is coated with never-used blankets a habit of stocking up
on the least needed goods a habit of inviting guests that will never visit
the room tone is dulled and constant we are not aware of it any more
and we continue to live together inside the devil’s reared head
begging for a shorter life span but grinning when our housemates pass by
and look our way
a muse
in its own
miserable shape

spider
dermatongue in the bottom bowls
the inside of jessolution of spider beeps
bottom courage the chosen ones bullied in a system of jeans
tired boys sheet paper tuesday men
the mazekeep of mustard a marriage mead
moreso outside himself inside the home
the tinderbox of calendar
versus truth time is an issue uproar spider misery
cold spider misery a must-read list of reasons to be upset
but you don’t read you don’t read & life is your vacation

maybe the next time you open a cheerio’s bag it’llspillouteverywhere
but it’s never preventable only predetermined
ordained the clutz of quartzmen
the grasp of mysterious self-failure a breakfast of letting yourself down
don’t you look for the nearest person to pity you enough
to clean it up

this monster spider a time keeper a desperate stripper
a daredevil timepiece a clear constant stone a ripped earth
an extract of faceless humanity a bare chested nevermind
a child now its only adult a notebook now underwater

a muse in its own shape in its own cellar
a triad of the most miserable under the covers
until the next day until the next day until it’s not a day anymore
until you won’t feel any better being better than you are now

apparently I am not okay apparently I can’t be
apparently I am
do unto yourself the chaste criticism you choose for others
give yourself that terrible beating give yourself a horrible life
give yourself nothing but the dense misery you wish on others & grow old in agony

we occupy ourselves so widely with matterless & regardless musings
you deserve every wince of distress you have you deserve everything to shatter
to rust to break before it’s built, borne, or brewed

KRISTIN PETERSON is a poet and filmmaker based in Milwaukee, WI. She has had her poetry published in the Great Lakes Review, Burdock '12, drupe fruits and by pity milk press, as well as with Rogue Agent and Flag + Void. She continues to write film scripts, poetry chapbooks and children's stories. Her delight in science, humor and media informs her poetry.