i have prayed for the ending of the day,
the sloughing off of my bruised, sore arms,
a breaking and redistributing of my legs,
cooling the fires of dawn, drying the tears
running so swiftly down my stupid, little face.

when sleep comes, it comes in with dark,
black tides of liquor, a knee at my chest,
another unbent, the smell of charcoal
lazy and leaded on my tongue, the dreams
to come are wild and unending, they have claws.

hello morning, your vise grip on my back
and my dead shoulders is a fire
that burn slow and sweetly, the light
of your complexion is blinding to me,
and my bed is so empty that I cannot breathe.

05/12/2008

Posted on 05/12/2008
Copyright © 2010 Jeremy Magee