to the morning then

i came to morning
with a jam and couldn't
find it in my head to
make a warm spot in my bed.

so i said here's my bed,
then i fed on a crumb
on my shirt from the food
i had eaten an hour ago.

i would have said yum
but i coughed instead,
coughed till muscus ran,
coughed till my lungs bled

and ran and bled up my throat
and into my hands, which
i wiped on my shirt where
the crumb was i fed to myself

before the cough.
then i sloughed off the covers,
off my bed, and sloughed off
the clothes on my back

and legs till i stood naked
and shaking and coughing still,
but moving much faster
both in body thrusting

and mind numbing laughter.
where am i going in my
swaying moment here? i hear
my voice tone. i know

i will fall soon i hope
i can fall flat on my bed.
flat on my bed
flat on my bed

heard in my head not to
hurt my head when i fall
flat flat flat flat flat.
in the morning i will find

that i fell flat on my head,
in my bed, sloughed of clothing
and aching for more crumbs,
ready to jam through and

jam it again--in the morning,
in the morning, oh in the morning!
         well, to the morning then.