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Gatherers
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Modern Arts of the Hospice House
In desperate times your indifference will slowly cripple you
like cholera.
Decimate and shiver til you're grey
I wanna lie in your bed and 'X' out the days
Until your waves crash
Until your frame snaps
You'll say
'It's all okay; I want you to cave in with me'
Miles away and in between
It's all the same,
subtle dying.
You lie awake, forget to breathe
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It's all the same, constant fighting.
Infect us with a hope you can't deprive
In this worldwide quarantine
In this homeless shelter we struck up a slow dance.
A cold empty cup in the shiver of your hand
drags along a wired fence
I laid in your bed today, rusting away.
I felt the same.
The subtle dying.
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