Three days had passed since the metal poles were errected,
and the sunlight now cast bloodied veins across my window panes.
The moon, busy being born in the states, was leaving me-
the radio mourns this time to wake- serenaded by reality,
of "it will never be the same"s.
It had been countless days since the drink and drugs made protesting bedsprings
repeat your name in time to your will and my uncaring,
and though the phones would ring and clocks would tick,
the circulation made me sick.