we drift around each other
like intelligent dust
picking up after ourselves
these moods and frailties
until we sleep
and
let the real work of dust begin
we drift around each other
like intelligent dust
picking up after ourselves
these moods and frailties
until we sleep
and
let the real work of dust begin
spaces appeared on the shelves
as the time of departure drew near
reminding me of when you first arrived
to draw back the curtains
and flood the place with light
so too
intervals in conversation
as symptoms grew worse
speech harder
now through a chink in the curtains
only a thin strip remains
of the day
I pull them together and withdraw
to the meaninglessness
of sleep
I’ve slept in these, I’ve slept in those,
I’ve slept in heaven only knows,
I’ve slept in boots and coat and hat,
I’ve slept on sofas shared with cats,
I’ve slept in trains, I’ve slept in cars,
I’ve slept on floorboards cold and hard,
I’ve slept rain-soaked and weather-blown,
I’ve slept in boxes (telephone),
I’ve slept in station waiting rooms,
I slept within my mother’s womb,
I slept there dreamless as the dead,
Tonight I think I’ll sleep in bed.
if there are a thousand ways
to hold back time
one would be to journey
down some unknown railway line
and by the winking
of a cheap hotel sign
slip into the forests
of the night
let the night take you
where there is no need for time
or for anything at all
till comes a dripping dawn
devoid of chorus
no joyful music then
to mark the day –
not that it would be
wanted anyway