A New Low

A new low has visited us today, sniffed us out 

Amidst the sour milk smell of our many lists: 

Passport photos, wills, unblock sink,

Passport, photos, phone, school, shoes, blink, 

Blink. All these frantic incantations we mouth 

In the dying hours before sleep cradles us 

In place of each other. We are keelless somehow,

Devoid of the strong wrists of purpose.

We let ourselves become twin rafts, wishboneless

At last. But let's hold our nerve while we drift - 

Everything is a training ground for something else.