My Weapon One:

Induce several states, inside play only
the mower stops abruptly   thereby homely
walls are thin things, beds are thick peoples
thighs are cooked always thoroughly
in the evening when I wake you are there
napping or cleaning elsewhere

the rows of muscle, pills from my sweater
heavy vacuum suffocate   TV A OK
the couch fits one and one at best
and every evening sounds the town siren
while we tiptoe through the dim environs
darling I yam your speediest admirer

I am in great need of an ottoman
in the watchful light of the next door kitchen
we sing brighter and higher   we stare
we inhale leaves   I dizzy   I load and unload
I am one half fascinating the other where
the sheepdog guards us from the cold