It was midnight and they were holding
hands, and their faces were all pointing West.
Then it was close to four in the morning and
a game of cards had broken out.
And then it was daytime and I awoke suddenly
to the white scream of an empty room and a half
eaten apple, browned by time and bruised by fate.
O’ those days, those days in that room with the
one window! The fat birds singing outside, and
the fatter children playing in their yard
And the old men in the circle chanting:
Eh
Eh
Eh
And god would come in the form of bread
2,000 years too late.
