meals on wheels at the Savoy

my head is empty at 3.27 a.m.

it is damp with the night’s debauchery

plopping at the top of the bridge

are the noisy little birds

no one can hear

pall bearers to the dead mosquitoes

left there by circumstance

morsels for the hungry

cleaners of the earth

i think of such things

while the world keeps turning

and my sleep leaves

it won’t return

i turn and stare at drying

turnips on my table

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s