I know that things are getting bad
when I wake up, already feeling bored.
I reach out a hand to silence
the alarm clock, then lie back.
The darkness presses gently on my eyes.
If I can find just one good reason,
I will rise. But I prefer the warm
seclusion of this room. Hovering
between limbo and the womb.
Here, I am at peace.
I would willingly sleep forever.
Nevertheless, I step out into the cold.
Draw back the curtains to admit
the stark grey presence of the world.
For a moment, I feel brave.
Then my naked form succumbs: I shiver.
The force within that keeps me moving:
Once, it almost resembled hope. And still,
I possess a faint desire. The remains of belief.
I no longer seek transcendence. I want
no meaning. My craving for love has passed.
There are no gods, no religion. And yet,
I pray. But my prayer has no words.
In my mind, I open out my arms
to the void... To reveal the starless
vacuum of my inner self...
Later, I sit by the window, eating breakfast.
Outside, the traffic flows in constant
arterial motion. From time to time,
I gaze out at the scene: So many people.
Strangers I will never know. Each of them
with lives as complex as my own.
I wonder where they are all going
and whether their actions are as aimless
as they appear: Doomed to drive forever
along an endless road, never visiting
the same place twice. The world a blur
of speed from car windows.
With the taste of cereal on my tongue,
I feel these words forming and write
in cold milk upon the table: A testament;
a new Bible spilling from my spoon.
