I want so much,
I could do so much,
but I just keep tearing myself apart

slam my head on the plate
rest my neck in the national razor
wait for the hand to strike,
gavel to give way

hoist myself
onto the rain-wet
splintering edged wood
of the lucarne
let the air break my fall,
close my eyes until I'm gone


but I am still here


going on


and on


and on


Good, gracious God
shut my mouth and send me off to something better