Waiting

padding the coat of this empty book
awaiting the wine words to spill
calling upon sustenance
or some unearthly pill
I make amends to go nowhere—
sailing on daft wind
dauntless, as the sky permits
when cold, I lay still
a stone amongst whiter stone
tumbling strolling toes—
I demand rapture when dry
remove my shirt, my gentlemen’s tie
let forehead soil in yellow weeds
give the earth myself, unburied
and come to not a thing—
a man restless
can twirl a melody
that’s all
pass time without aging
attentive, unglued—
when called upon

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