i forgot how it felt to be nothing,
always moving, always thinking, always something.
but beneath it all, we animals
have only got our codes.

so, as the sun rises in the morning,
tearing bodies from their beds,
making mockery of rest,
i put a mark on the next spot in the calendar,
waiting to somehow tear my mind away
from talking and dreaming, from buildings and ghosts,
from what i viewed as the future,
but now give up as loss.