I am here
this is enough
like the last seed pushes
through the rougher rough.
Want, desire, need
abstract things I
no longer bleed.
This apple now in my mouth.
I am here.
Piss, shit, breath and spit.
I lounge and loafe.
There is no longer any
getting on with it.
For others there
the buzz of progress, nicer hair.
I lift my glass.
I walk not there.
I am here.
This is enough.
Like the glistening tired ant pulls
the large leaf through the rough.
