I drift
like Last-Birthday’s balloon...

The nothing new—
another verse and all...

Eyes peel to the pang-
with its beats...

That pale morning in the mud,
we crowded round a chasm...

There is no time
to lighten my fail-fate...

I am hovered in the
fragile breath of spring...

Lay your whirling head right down
with knees and hands...

I pear beyond the bindings
of my maze-like sleuth...

Be this then a deed without a name,
and eclipse me in pitying clouds of shame...

This is quite a lie,
so unfurl the flesh...

The mighty sun has seen
and beamed beneath my blunders...

My mother never told us who she loved,
but packed us off to school each sun cracked dawn...