In My Mornings
In my mornings
I dream of a bullet through the head
Ironic/To dream of pain to be Pain’s release.
A wound to speak of/Sound release
From an abstraction of Hell
Made real in my head.
Two eyes, two legs, two hands, a dick-
A mouth to speak/A skull, and everything in between
Yet/ And yet/And yet/ My head is not it seems
anchored to the real.
I hear this is how things are/Before the help of death’s release
Or the happy surprise of waking up instead
I smile/Take in the pounding of my heart/ Still the racing brook of my thoughts
And decide/ To try another day.
Dele Meiji, July 2017
This poem originally bore another title and has been changed at the request of the author