SUPERTIRED !

strange how exhausted a man can be
with 
mind-fog a north wall of dense smudged graffiti 
and
still 

all at once

can
plan evenings of seaside-dinner and cafe-words 
he might miss 
and
still
can
suddenly plot crime novels bent on the work toilet
he may never write
and
still
can
work his heavy limbs for folding money
thru the murky muddy troughs of awful 10 AM
and
still
can
jot and scribble nascent poems quickly down
between
dark bitter coffees and spacious abyss moments 
that 
reduce All Things from rocky mass to mere paper concept
with
still
the 
big world-drama banging like jungle telegraph
out the radio headlines and dim-opinion gossip mouths
that
fill
full
every
long
slow
blink
of tiny interrupted peace

from delightmakers.com