166
THE TASK
Desperate to be known as one not desperate
The devil has a square and heavy head
Snow lands on the windowsills
Television goes on to depict nothing
That is not there
Set free like a lounge chair from the top floor of the cool dorm
Dehydrate me, lovely time brick
I've sat and watched
Close as gnats, as closely the way
The afternoon is their morning
That tree out there belongs to a star
Whispering drunk schizo or the beloved of time?
Asleep inside the gossamer sunset
Or near it causing feedback in the Atheneum
The night breathes windows