there was a man – once who had
bad sperience after bad sperience
with fireworks (one exploded on his foot)

now i’m awed by a man who had
bad sperience after bad sperience
with bugs which choose to grow in beds

but i admit as a child i was haunted by the
thought
asked my father “from whence doest they come?”
to which he replied “he who doth not wash his sheets”

so every friday like clockwork
i laid in bed and feared what might happen
should i choose not to get up
and swap out those threads on which i lay