FORWARD

like lying down knowing

that you’ll have to rise

for some trivial task

as a backsliding heifer

twitches in mud-soaked joy

the world still turns

BEHIND AND BEFORE THE DAY

I think I’m losing a day here

The furniture is no longer shifting

There’s no girl to fill the room so completely

The dust on the windowsill are not particles

For spasms of the sun to crown perceptions

But the non-historical texts are cracked

Split bricks, not for knowledge

But aphesis

When you’re balancing on the spines

You long for the sun o'er

Even so the yellow moon

Is way too bright