Sleep Apnea by Ian T. Hall

There is always something to be said
for regularhood: the familiar

falter of a barstool, the cold fidget
that creaks a tree stand, pipe fitting, pissing

mineral, breathing asbestos, paying up
union dues. The kind of doggedness

that translates to devotion. To this end
I am mouthing

my blessings into a trundle mattress

People on couch

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