i
get up slow
open curtains to winter sun
and
blow my nightmares out my nose
i
sort
out
the
cat
hes knocked his water over again
i
sit at the dusty desk
got small coffee
south london blues on the player
rest my fingers on the keys
i
swear at the cheap lighter
busted or empty or something
sun comes in as stripes thru the blinds
can
i
channel anything at all ?
and
how it will sound
when
i
read
it
back this evening
when
i
am
all
different in the hurrying night ?
from casatnations.wordpress.com
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