I am five-sixths in the way of forgetting

I am five-sixths in the way of forgetting

Still maybe I hunger after the thuds

The rhyme has gone but I'm not sorry

Still the night is damp in my joints

The night it is continous orange

Reassuring like the truth was

Now tomorrow tells a beamer

Who can find and own the law.

One sixth of remembrance has me thinking

That I've no history at all

But a shaky sureworn heartprint

And a thinking mind to show

How helpless powerless imbecilic

Naive and believing

I am in the truth.

All my fractions are non-actions

Numbers can not lie

And youth is guilty

In the rushes

Stowed.