You Awaken From a Nap, Hung Over
You awaken from a nap, hung over
It is dark outside already.
The newspapers on the table,
the dirty dishes -- an unreal space.
You have a bowl of chile,
a cup of tea,
languidly stir the thick imagination.
You go out, after a while.
A strange light seems to lurk
between the houses and the telephone poles.
The car glides out of the alley in silence
and the pace picks up.
One knows that poems are out there,
waiting in the thick mileau of the night.
You awaken from a nap, hung over
It is dark outside already.
The newspapers on the table,
the dirty dishes -- an unreal space.
You have a bowl of chile,
a cup of tea,
languidly stir the thick imagination.
You go out, after a while.
A strange light seems to lurk
between the houses and the telephone poles.
The car glides out of the alley in silence
and the pace picks up.
One knows that poems are out there,
waiting in the thick mileau of the night.