On
setting them down
Why
do I live
what
do I live for
it
is not for the dream of the day
the
cold hand of night
brushing
away
what
little I have achieved or have turned
out
of light
to
be expressed in a new way
protein
of course
and
water I need
I
need to urinate slightly more often than I bleed
but
to much the same psychic purpose
do
I live for sleep
and
the truth of its dreams
properly
spoken
interpreted
in
the unwashed tomb that will be my bed
is
it to finally rest my head
is
that all I live for
at
dawn
I
am wide awake to the seagulls rattling
I
do not know what brought forth
this
sigh this living light
this
sign on the bay
electricity
crackling
I
merely endure the sounds
that
descend and surround
sensations
I just recall
and
with a soft heart
set
down
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