my cats are eager to know
what I do in my garage
and so is my father--
I write poetry at dawn
rebellion ended some time ago
destructed me into flames
all I have now is a little
cigarette to burn before daybreak
the birds to call my name
the echoes in the empty backyards
I'm not suffering here
maybe I was yesterday,
early this hour IÕm bright
shimmering with silence
a trap I once stuck my foot in
now has no power to contain
the loops of knots don't fit anymore
and rebellion is a word for children
but I'm a man
terribly aware of my freedom
to do destructive things
Print Article