Tuesday 4 June 2013

MORNING IS NOT A DREAM


another morning
i tell myself its not a dream

i've had no rest
i eat nothing
pulling on my shoes now

walk the silent bungalow streets
some still have the original windows
single glaze
metal frame

i listen to a dead poet talk over
modern
muted
beats

at work i am the first in
putting the kettle on now
coffee
only
works
till
noon

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