As/Is







11.28.2003


open the windows

such
a stale room shuttered
against grey
wet outside don't
open your eyes,
the cat is
trying to sleep on your
lonely bed
where you
kick and fight
sleep every night.

it isn't so bad, it
almost passes
for irony when
you track
the grooves of
the fingerprints
of undulating sheep
paddocks and steel and
concrete buildings
on your heart.

strange.

even today
cities shape
us like clay.