I’m Up At Four A Lot
See What’s Become Of Me
What time is it, she asks, and I tell her
time’s irrelevant because it’s already
half past October, the General of Fallen
Leaves is hunkered down somewhere
under the woodpile, rallying the troops
for winter’s final onslaught. She asks me
what time it is without lifting her head or
opening her eyes and It’s four fucking
thirty in the goddamned morning, I say,
Go back to sleep it’s only an opening line.
Go make your six-word confession to Call Me Cate at: SHOW MY FACE.