Thursday, June 11, 2015


And so sleep on silent witness
For what may arise in the night?
Poke and prod the unaware sleeper
A mole squirming in airy darkness
Expanding covertly; seeking release
Under the white sky of bed linen
And yet sleep on still; dream contented
Stroke its magnificent accumulation
In clockwise, unconscious relief
Till discharge comes into night arms
The explosion of a need over want
And see the fart fade like a ghost