Tempest

With all these bodies floating around
that stink
and move
theywatch what you have

but I am still thinking of you

While I run away
across the bay

I dream a simple dream that goes too far
because I slept too much
why am I beating myself so suddenly?

And that’s not all
If I fly and run and play and have fun

I wake up in the night
next to a name I don’t know
but I feel sick, and stolen, and I want to run away again
what have I accomplished?

Is there a land of no thought, no feel
but more real?
Or are they all the same
In my mind, full of shame?

It’s my mind, it’s in my head
It  caresses me until I’m dead
so I drink and I smoke
and don’t mind the cheap dope
so I wonder
who or what is my friend?


Lusaka, Aug 95