I woke in a sweat from a desirous fever In the pocket of yesteryear where faults have fallen to some I begged not to carry the corpse To not be a queer fish in unforgiving hearts Unforgiving you
To not be buried in native clay and preserved for cynicism I wish to be a pauper in kind eyes To feel the gravel beneath my knees To wake in a home To feel the gravel beneath my knees
God had sent me into Space where I could not escape God had sent my calamity into A deep space from which not even in dreams Could I ever imagine my escape
