nothing walks better than the ‘day light shakes’
you’re working today and the briefcases are deciding,
to be hearts instead of skin
you’ve decided the night
whilst it past

not worth its sleep – the sun juices
a dead man across sand
the beers beers beers or maybe just
the previous day
a dancer in itself
was enough to keep you
awake
and moving until now;
stretching the ground
with your feet

one after another, an absolute laughter of free limbs apart;
escaping the need to run.

the sun
just another mouth openening
just;

above yours
you’re commuting and already rolling your neck like a sleeper
with a crook and a sigh
because the night was rough

and when you blink – your eyes water
and duty pulls you in
like an engorged worker
in a factory of silk

there is humour in your tiredness however
there is a rubber floor
moving
beneath your feet
understanding
why you smile quietly
(every now and then)

getting on with the daily beat
body-aching
each and every part
used up
from lip to heart
arching back
the phone rings;

you pick up
a cat sits
eating dogs
a low voice, contralto
below the voice
you hear
a piercing sound

the orchestra sings in the open office
above the 4 ft walls and above the water coolers
and again you chuckle
as the customer does
and a sweep
just enough to **** the day
a little
to open you up
enough
to let the mouse move

to let the flutes devour
politey unwashed
reacting to vermin
a savage flux
putrified by clock
quickened and quickened again
turned
so no animal speaks about the tick
no lights on
a blinding grace
which -
there already is –

the foundations laugh
and the day flys
as the window slams
and she leaves inbetween

as you return to your desk
turning your head
to watch the thing go
and disappear
past where you can see.