Aubade

This morning, this grand impossible morning

avenues of light passing through the barriers

I wait for you. There is annihilation in this

speaker, though when it comes, who knows

poison, and poison begins somewhere, in

the unconscious mind, a dark door over

the left shoulder or just out of sight, before

you are through it you are through it;

the world closes down and the entire soul

is sabotaged, institutions formed up to pattern

recognition out of sight, out of the head

and shame and unyielding attacks 

on the imaginative faculties are its lifeblood

feeding on the desiccated numbers, at large

mounting the insurgencies: Addiction and calm

this morning arrive here, learn its names,

depart without a kiss, pure blank severance

a light as light will form, forcing back the door.