Place

I slept in a hedgerow. A hedgehog
Put its nose in my ear, and gave me fleas.
I left the next day.
I'm searching for perfect solitude.
I'd build myself an underground
Hermitage, but I don't believe in work
And anyway, I'm afraid of the
Worms that would gnaw at my
Home, overrun it, throw my broken
Body out and swarm it with their
Pink snuggling bodies.

So I left my hedge, and I slept on a sandbank.
I dove into the sea, struggled against
Tides and currents, cursing the moon,
Calling it a thief. I slept on a sandbank
And the tricky sea came and changed my skin.
Damn that moon! Make it leave me alone!
I am going far away, and I will find
That place to make mine, with nothing
To disturb me.

So I left my sandbank, and I went to an
Old furnace. I wriggled into
A bed that crumbled around me,
Sticking to my body. A bed that
Apparitioned me. I was happy in the furnace
With my dusty tongue and teeth.
But a fire came and tickled the soles of
My feet, and snatched at my elbows,
And unmade my hair.
I could do nothing but shake my fist,
Speechless at the bloody nerve.
It bruised me.

So I had no choice. To find my solitude,
I had to apologise to the moon.
It held promises. I raised my eyes
Sincerely. I was sorry.
I hoped it would gather me into its arm
And let me sleep in a crater.
It graciously allowed, so I kissed
Its lovely curvature, and found a place,
Drowning underwater, flanked by my
Cool, grey saviour.