the wait

The Wait

The wave of sleep washed my up on the bleak shore of the awake

half remembered dreams vanished and left behind a blank canvas.

I was alone with the grey mass of viscosity framed by boredom.

and I had no whisky or cigarettes to hide behind in my elderliness

pleasures long gone….The futures didn´t reveal itself saw I´, not

a seer, the past was an endless series of failure and I could not

recall anything in my life that had given me pleasure of lasting

kind it had all been so erratic, laughter mingled with contempt

of a circus clown with red nose.

looked out of the window and the sleeping town I noticed some

windows had light, and the 24 hour petrol station was open

they sold cigarette and booze too, put were out of happiness

and peace of mind packed in healthy disposable green bags.

Switched on the TV, Russia had occupied itself and people there

were jubilant;  and they were looking for a plane that fell from

the sky a week ago, the world changes but slowly.