I see these sorts of things
when I force my eyes open
much earlier than I should
but it’s all right, it’s a common theme
it’s round and easy to hold
though desperate in measure

and what I carry with me
through the trenches of the day
is my business alone, but it’s clear enough
to anyone who sees my heavy eyes
or the residue in the gutters
to either side of our path

Falling away
down the side of an easy mountain
you’re receding into everything
the whispered assurances
and cautious clemency
growing louder in my head