Lessons in life part 12…..you need more than 3 hours

The study books are nocturnal
they feed on slices of deprivation
pages thumb black ink
into sunken eye sockets
while the house listens
to keyboard clicks.

The snorted blink
of a razor-blade dawn
cuts the throat of urban birds,
and their would-be
song of sunrise.

I close an eye onto salt spray
Itching between dreams of reality.
Sleep comes tapping
with a distant boat engine,
nudging its bow wave forward,
rudderless and out of control,
slumped over the shallow rocks
of a drooling shoreline.