pin in my hip

trying to shit

i realise, again

life

is like this

pain

death, dying people

in the clean, smooth winter night

after night

after night

but still there is the song

incredible

that it slips over

and through us

(night

after night)

the twinkling, the tinkering

the work

of people living -

walking from here

to you

and back

come on

little steps, she says

a knife through the thigh

nurse hand

on my back

my wife smiles

her hand is warm: i hang from it

it is real

like this night

like life

like the song we know

we all think

we dreamed about