We did it then?
busted through to get to god knows when,
a new year, blue year,
do I know what year?
but it's done now anyhow
so what's the use in me denying
that the new year's just the old
year doing its dying.

I glue feathers on my arms and I am flying,
dying to get home to her and
wanting very much to share my hopes for twenty sixteen
between the sheets,
dare I wake her from the sleep in which she's crying?

We did and do when we broke into
the new year and I
am still here
with her.

Breaking
making
dying laughter,
afternoon's spent in
disaster
hereinafter known
as the
new year.