Sitting there
and swimmingly dark
you are the light in a mind
that’s made of glass
the ups-and-downs,
the shadows they cast,
the fictions and meanings
that fuck in the park
of swimmingly dark Caffeine.
I consume you at morning
but also at night
and whether or not
I’m really that tired:
a sucking-on-me- kind-of-vice
that covers up the fright,
a waistcoat; entry by the door
and I could want you even more.
Caffeine.
25/10/04
