Pin me down, all the way to the ground. Hold me near, I'm not going anywhere. Occupy my time, it's no longer mine or yours but ours. Get a hold of it now. Take the sheet, I can't feel my feet; the blanket too, I cannot rouse another. I feel nothing, so let me do the touching. Pin me down, all the way to the ground. 


On the roof, there were pine needles. Not many at first, and then there were a lot. They concentrated above the porch, had swept down and packed the gutter, giving the eave a little visor. The weight of one pine needle is not that much. Like a tissue or a toothpick. But a bunch? Wet and in one place? Certainly looks heavy. The house and the tree were almost one until Ramon went up there and cleared the pine needles off.
There's a hole in the roof of house next door that's abandoned. Someone's boarded it up, but one night before they did I saw a family of raccoons pop its head up through the hole and look around. It was dark out and what got my attention was their attention if that makes sense. Their eyes aglow and all alone, they were like a light on in the attic. I scurried away, neck cranked the whole time, scared they were following me.
There's a house that shares the wall with the park that's up the way. The park's like this house's side yard. On the rooftop of the house a white sweatshirt hung from an exhaust pipe as if it was a coat rack. It was like the man who owned it had come back from somewhere he'd been and put it there. He was looking real comfortable up there in his short sleeves, putting on a new floor down. Made up of shingles.