1/15/92- Adrift

                                                    1/15/92
                                      Port Elizabeth,South Africa
 
                                Adrift
 
 
     I don't want to write,I have to
     Because talking to water bottles and chairs won't do
     I'm slowly pulling away like a charter boat
     Its horn announcing that it won't be there
     To be admired or dreamed about
     My friends on the dock are not waving
     Eyes elsewhere,deaf to traffic
    
     (Or perhaps it's just a water faucet calling into the night.)
 
     I watch my own hand extended
     Palm out,palm down,never up
     The silent words never heard,never mouthed
     Only behind chained doors do they see the light of day...
 
     How long will I prevent the heat of chance an audience
           before me?
     Can change breathe life into a soul with both hands
           across its mouth?
     Can values maintain their integrity in a vacuum growing?
     To stop thinking and just to live
     To be on my own side
     To sleep,to sleep...