with a watchers patience
he unfolded the chair
rusted to the doorstep
with fine grains of red
like a thousand fingers
wander till the cold dawn breaks
searching for my souls ease

your life is the slamming
of typewriter keys
to paint with crafted words the world you would dream
the world she would love you in
your life is the desperate holding at bay the hours evaporating
into a future you cannot
comprehend
but fret over

like the wringing of sweaty hands
pacing the hall
small bald fat men
with neatly pressed brooks brothers suits
but fret over like the well greased
plans and carefully laid desings
of another mans futures past misgivings

i fought with all i had
i gave all my heart and soul
till my very bones ached
fought till i could bear no more
till i fell
in the first breakers of dawn
in the first shallow fingers of dawn