Aquariums

Living alone
In a twelve foot camper
He develops a habit
Of checking the battery
Thirteen times an hour

He uses binoculars
To watch
The neighbor’s big screen

He lies in bed
Waiting
For someone to come
So he can ask them
To leave

He has a tendency
To imagine
Honeycomb patterns
Of a trillion homes
Identical to his own
Stacked together
And spreading for miles
In every direction

Each one holding
A heart
Afraid of the competition
But unwilling
To silence the generator