A Second Poem For Ryuichi Sakamoto


I taste. I salivate.

I have all these daydreams that come out at night.

And I know, I know.

They all fly away when I turn on the light.


I’m awake, I’m awake.

I have those bloody dawn eyes and those psychotic shakes.

I’ve pushed, I’ve pushed through.

I crawl on the ground and I shake in each room.


So loud, So close.

Nothing stops the agony except a few pokes

on those pearled white and black piano planks,

that feel so much like tile, this is my favorite place.


Have you ever heard a song,

that doesn’t have words but you still sing along?

I’ve heard. And I’ve had,

divine night ideas that slipped out of dawn’s grasp.


I’m here, I’m awake.

I’m not sure if I slept, but if I did it felt fake.

My eyes were closed, I was laying in my room

just watching those daydreams play on a loop.


Could someone here tell me, how I could say,

without sounding totally hopelessly vague,

that now it’s four in the morning, and I’ve just realized

this song shot God from a cannon and into my eyes.