Drop of water
I
call and you come
feeding
me my chosen
anesthesia
I
will soon administer
and
the woes of the world will be washed
from
my broken system
all
worries are squashed
as
the hard sticky syrup
gives
up its gas
enters
my lungs
circulates
the bloodstream
and
massages the brain
it
sets up my day
helps
me set up my own personal bounds
of
fact and fiction
in
its sway
do
I pray
for
some summonance from her/ some
click
I should shine my shoes
and
I should press my
shirt
for
adieu
old
enemies of my heart who have left me hung
on
this rock to dry/ my paintings
drawn
and quartered
let
the eye
if
not the soul go by
each
stroke a drop
of
water
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