Oh, sad scribe, under with you
into the covers, twitching madly and hearing the drum beats.
following this you do cry over, the same phrase
repeating in your head traditionally
to make you cry harder, faster and with gasping.
there is no one in the world who
can hold your hand with such a grip
that he can come closer into you
to someplace unknowable.
sad crying poet, please
repeat the same phrases without stopping
because when they become worn in mine ears
i can solve the --
the subordinates there below our feet
you and i, genius baaaby.
i glance at them