Suitably respectable and never asking for
trouble or the time of day.
I wait at the station
like a cattle dog.

My master gone in the midst of a promise,
tells me I am ready for transit;
my bones wait for flesh
my theatre for Godot.

News on paper says a factory burns.
Expiry dates determine that wafer crumbles in its tin.
Apollo is a god who sends one of his chariots to the moon.

I’m ten years beyond birth already
counting ways to escape the infirmary.

Looking into this forgone conclusion
I peer over my shoulder at a leafless tree.

Will there be leaves on it one day.
Who can say.

I wait.
Like didi.
For what I mean

 

 

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