By Aurin Squire
Silver skin gloams the autumn morning
Register dawn rise up from the harbor
Freights yawn 'cross rusted docks warning
Turn and look at cell clock, not even four.
Step left onto the cold wooden seams
Handful of green leaves from the packet
Buds unfurl in the long curled steam
Drums pound on my chest, a new day's racket
Plates of Potato chips and chocolate chip
Manhattan breakfast of salt and sugar sinks
Crunch, smash, gulp down the ship
Running to rehearsal and no time to think
Crash comes quick in the early afternoon
english muffin, mushrooms around noon.
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