Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Brief Statement for a Bed Too Big

The laughter I want to see inside
cannot be forced from the faucet like water.
In the next breath
the effort will be there.
Pumping from the well
the joy locked inside the crags;
deep beneath the bedrock
within the fabric of the sheets
among the lofty heights of the
cycle of day.
All the air taken
will try not to be thrown back out
into the void of a lost body.
Fading into the A.M.
here is a roar in an envelope
a raucous laugh
or a sigh too loud to be contained
nonetheless here it is
on the dusty desk I keep.

Rest will not come easy
as long as these sighs choke,
and sure enough tonight
I do not breathe from my mouth.

With my breathe lost,
I aimlessly gasp
and roll around the dirtied sheets
soiled from days of taciturn dreams
and roll I must
flattening today's dough
for tomorrow's bread.
Tomorrow morning
I will awake hungry.


  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

  2. Part of this was written earlier this year, I tagged on a few brief verses and did a bit of editing.