is Sunday and a hush falls over the world there are no clocks
no ties
no shoes no going beyond living loving breathing
previous days are postcards
and key in a cork with thumbtacks
trying to forget or maybe watch them here in this light
with eyes looking sideways at some
encyclopedia reluctantly today is not the time to die
little desire to remain naked while
relaxed face without a touch
just want to enjoy this Sunday morning down
still doing nothing
not pick anything up without ordering anything
anything just me with my dreams lulled into laziness
transported to the peace of utter denial
no news or letters or ghosts that oppress the way
leaving me by the foam
of imagination that you dream
hit me with the image of places where there are exquisite
trenches where there is no past, present or future
only weightlessness
a slow song by the Beatles played the cello
that appears
filtered drilling concrete beams
brick walls of the double windows of the soul
soundproof
