i am dreaming of the oxtail soupnand the hot fry of scrapplenand the cluttering of yatzee dicenacross your kitchen tablenso i've rolled a snake eyesnyou keep score on the brown bagnsharpen pencil with pen knifenlike you have done your whole lifenin the middle of the countynand you seem so contentnbuttering your saltinenthe pattern on your juice glassnthe hole in your door screennin the middle of the wirenna na na na na na nanhave you ever known a lovernbesides my grandfatherndid you ever discovernyou can't sleep beside each othernin the middle of the nightnand gradma you're smiling though you've heard no word i've saidni recognize that smile meansnher hearing aid's gone badnand she's coasting in the silencencut free from conversationngrandma looks beneath the tablensays i see your secret nownyou wear white shoes past labor daynbut i promise i won't tellnand if you wanna know why men fall asleep after sexnit's cos they've thrown off their neednthat's why we women stay awake tossing dicencos' we've just been shot through with seednand it's electrifyingnlike fireflies sown into your liningn