The frame finally gave with a splintering crack

The frame finally gave with a splintering crack

so I dragged the coil-spring down to the wood.

There is something about the way it hits the back

that makes me feel misunderstood.

I wake up eye-level with the dust

and a penny that rolled under the vent.

It’s a low-slung life of necessity and rust

where all the structural pride has been spent.

The fitted sheet won't stay in its place

because there isn't an edge left to tuck.

I’m sleeping in a small, unmade space

waiting for a change in my luck.