34 You made me drink my metal days To drip with liquid Monday iron. You melt my steel of Wednesday tread To thirst on still and solid Friday. Iím drunk, tick-tack, with metal days To make your gold from my zinc hours, To fuse my copper with your name, To cast your body in my iron. The metals lost my name and shape To forge your flow in my still habit. You mix the metals of my days. You mould my days in melting metals.


Confined Verse
Collected Poems