You’re an A-hole really,
my optic nerve skewered

far into my cerebellum.
by this chastity belt for

the Web. Postage stamp
pictures, grainier than beach

sand, but missing warmth.

of opportunity when I can wash
my clothes in my building’s basement,
unhurried or without delay. Nine-to-fivers,
nodding off from routine, haunt

The geek I call “grocery boy” at Kroger is named Daniel.
No one nicknamed him or if they did it was Mars or Pluto
or Too-Smart-For-His-Own-Good.

Any farmer will tell you:
Nothing clears land quite like a goat,
Save for a Bobcat—
The 3650 Utility Vehicle—not the mountain lion.

The “flying” part I’m happy with,
though the juxtaposition with “object”
negates its suggestion of heroic action.
What really rips me is the “unidentified.”