what i haven't given for the earth to turn
in the direction of profound meaning.
the sum of all the late night screaming
is as meaningless as an apology by phone

i've lost the will of jealous dreaming
the curse of causeless anger and doubt
yet sex still goes on all around
raw meat floating by a fasting shark

the world of the possible and the real
come together like the fingers of a fist
and the silence of early morning insists
that i'm not prepared for what's to come