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