Aching for an oracle
aching for a dream
aching for someone
upright to pull this fucking beam
out of my poor eye socket
out of my aching head
just trying to get it
together
just enough to lie down
in this unmade bed
sometimes I ache for smoke
or a mirror to prove
that I’m awake
sometimes I ache to
sell out
there’s no offer there
to take
at least I’m not yet aching
for the next great
telephone
more of what I’m trying
to get away from
as it is these days
I’m never really alone
what
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