Hold fast your Spartan toes, strange animal,
Cling, and with your bat-like tenacity
In the fluid machinery of clock time.
Pond your silly neck upon foreign shores, strange animal
And like generations before you
Cower in your lonely chamber
Jealous of the sun.
Wings for a dungeon.
I sit in my quiet corner
And thumb a passive pencil
Dreaming I dreamt a dream
Thoughts jerk uneasy
Like uncomfortable house guests
Seeking expression in an ashtray.
They will not be still.