Stealing Time

To steal a poem

stealthily from time

is an art

I am slowly

getting acquainted to

 

sitting idle on the bed

staring blankly

at the tv

moving images

sounds, zoom in zoom out

 

on repeat

is the same old beat

the same faces, the same smoke

I sleep off

before my last drink

 

spills

just before morning

wetting the sheets

I go back to sleep

to wake up with a fresh piece