John Tustin
The bed is clean.
The beer is gone.
The night succumbs to its inevitability.
There are my blue jeans with the hole in the back pocket
And the hole in the knee
Crumpled on the floor beside my clean bed.
No more words are coming to me
And I’ve stopped listening to the music.
My mind is clear and cluttered at once.
It’s the best time.
I will fall asleep and awaken
Not remembering.
The bed is clean.
The beer is gone.
The room is quiet.
The sun comes in, rustling like leaves
And I open my eyes,
Awake and not remembering.