what’s to save his life, jeopardy surrounds
him, his dreams have shrunk to fragments, no one
believes him now when he says he has a
plan, when he says there is a future in
his mind, his hand, the left one, cradles his
penis for comfort, his right hand hangs in
the air, waits for daylight, daylight on his
eyelids is more than he can bear this morning
unlike any other, he thinks he smells
coffee, a little wife in a little
kitchen, that’s the ticket, is that asking
too much, the smell of bacon with an egg
cooked just for him, what’s to save him, he
lies dreaming, thank god it’s summer, the park
in bloom, any minute now he’ll open
his eyes and be a man with money in
his pocket and the pocket won’t have a
hole in it, how much went through that hole
before he found it, how much fell right on
out of his life seconds after he thought
he had secured it, everything, all of
it, enough to break a heart