HEART RATE
I am beaten to death by a convulsion
Taking place somewhere between
The shoulders and the collarbone
And the urge to move and shake and twitch
And shiver, stagger
ANYTHING
I don't believe myself to be a trouble maker
Except when you deprive me
Of what I believe to be mine
I have my problems
And you have yours
DAYDREAM
I don't pretend
To understand