A GLASS, DARKLY

It never sleeps. It is

      what wakes you

trembling nights weeping

      while

dreams melt in darkness. It’s your

sweat soaked sheets

your churning empty bed;

the rain against your window

soft, insistent, constant

each drop a murmur in

       reason’s diluvial roar.

Drag it to vertiginous highs

       or bury it

in anonymous hotels stick it

      with a needle try and sink it in

a sea of booze;

only when sated will it

      vanish

a pick-up hustled you for drinks;

an evanescent tracery

etched across a stormy night;

an unfinished poem

in the memory of a monstrous computer.