WAKE

sclave and scrat
            towhit towhat
                whither dither slither
It were
I gebornen
 
I hadn’t the time for a daybook
Sorriden between swobs undermoon.
                                                         whit, whist, thwist, twist.
And maditatennen I din’ner sleep;
I slape. I slaped.
                        forgate, forgoot.
 
I whill re-member.
                       I whill re-great.
‘rhematoidal scoffuscations
   indernodal, rendered over
     flames and cavemeat.
Neanderthal latte:
No sugar.
 
Nothing bittersweet about a 12-week heart-beat-beat-beat-beee.
Nothing sweet.
            Only bitter.
                        And a wake.
 

Joel Mitchell