Night Machine

Downstairs in the kitchen

Stars are great wheels in a machine sky.

Heaven is above in the metal dome.

You pour yourself a cup of Water.

The glass feels like it will crack when the faucet jet hits the bottom.

There’s a little porch outside the door in the kitchen.

It looks over your backyard

Before the view drops off, the machine’s domain takes over.

You are wired to feel like this.

At this hour, the signal always goes off.

Your water freezes in its cup

And the glass cracks.