Or who has
to pay
in the cloud
tells you to do it,
grown thin
converting
waking and
sleeping
it is your nature
and machine
as
work has the same
gestures as love
it is part of it,
satisfied by
again to
survive it,
with what
we don't know
and so
are kind
to the flowers,
where all wounds
repart glowing
the angels
in the pub