Trundling through the Room of Word,
The crude remarks and the young absurd,
They come an go, no valedictory speech,
Just to and fro, a vestige for each.
So I sit and I stare, with a nihilist prayer,
And I ***** my heart to the sticking place,
Left alone in the quietude, left alone in a private mood,
No crude remarks for a tired face.
So I sit and I stare, yes, I sit and I stare,
screen boring me holes for eyes,
I wait and I dare, my words in the air,
The atmosphere sets and dries -
The atmosphere sets and it dies.
I'll wait there, 'do something, accompany me'
I'll wait there, like waiting for a train.
But once I've waited, no latened, loving response belated,
I tire of this melancholy station,
I'm alone in the Room 'o' Words, my company split to fifths and thirds,
It's time for another, emotional vacation.