almost ceremonial

 
4am and freezing


two hours too early
and I'm half asleep but
content with hazy thoughts

I'll work a few hours
then go home to sire sunshine
while she goes to work
so we can survive the next month

but for now it's me
the air
and the big window


over the distant tree-line
are apocalyptic skies
with the thin, cold clouds
glowing dark gold
and for an hour, half an hour
(whatever time permits the timeless conscious)
I'm just staring
chasing thoughts that cover
their tracks
because frail thoughts
can't be held
but the chase is perfect
over a sunburst skyline

I take the dogs out
and still
arrive three minutes late for work
because I've fucked enough
of life's cold tight cunt
and my boss
can't find a more deft ape