The hum of the fan plays my mind,
illusions of you,
delusions of me.
Memories I want to un-remember,
caution that should not have been thrown to the wind.

My mind is blank sometimes,
then it's on fire.
Nightmares are gasoline,
sleep is unattainable.

But the hum of the fan plays my mind,
lulls me to a waking sleep.
Hallucinations seem all to real,
voices yet to come.

No help, no help,
a fight that's better fought alone.
Still the hum of the fan plays my mind.

Transfer transfer,
my whole life transfers.
I move from here to there,
there to here.
Back and forth everyday.

Transfer transfer,
I work at a place where I wait for all sorts.
Fat, small, ugly,
to transfer.
Coming and going,
going and coming,
back and forth every day.
Except for the weekends.

Transfer transfer,
I wait for the final transfers,
as all of us do.
Some more than others.
Thrown in a box,
carried away by the funeral parade to a final resting place.

I hope to god there is no god.
No heaven,
no spiritual realm,
or whatever the ******* want to call it.
Doomed to transfer for eternity.

I'm so happy when my girls come to see me,
I love to watch them squabble,
talk amongst themselves.
Life is important.

They smile,
I beam.
We discuss strangers tattoos,
winking and noses,
things that matter.

An hour came then the hour went.
Two weeks and we'll continue the same conversation.

A grassy salty surprise,
A succulent bone,
A crisp spud.
Each bite a jubilation,
Every swallow a rebirth.
Greasy grease,
My lovely love.
How I've missed you,
maybe we'll meet again,
in another two years.