From somewhere back, a light keeps flashing:
A billboard asking me to sleep
Downstairs, my neighbor is bathing. I hear him humming a polka. I hear him thinking about me:
“What does she do when I can’t hear her marching?”
I’ll never tell him I dream of the army
I could’ve enlisted, been a sergeant by now
Downing brown whiskey and cursing civilians
If I were a soldier, I’d be sleeping by now, my helmet full of rumble and letters from Mother
Instead, I am wakeful
Remembering you in your white, loose, all-over summеr and constantly giggling