Dawn Chorus

Dawn Chorus

How am I going to do it again?
A shower, a shit and a shave. Pain!
Scraping a life together from the shredded
Bits that have just fallen out of bed.

Whose tired limbs are these?
What unkempt hair and bloody eyes?
Oh, die worker, die. No more!
Writhe on the floor, die worker, die!
I implore all the gods in the firmament.
Please, please, please, give me late breakfasts.

Date mostly written: 1989