the oil in his bones has turned black
the smell of burning diesel
permeating from the pores
and through his clothes into the
blankness of the night.
declarations of dreamt fulfillments
a routine so restless
fills him to the brim.
unspeakable anguish


sitting at the kitchen table, dreaming
all of this has been said before
has been promised before.
the formulations of plans
knotted, twisted and fallen down
like punctured heros in distant forests
twigs snapping beneath his feet.