Cracks

I’m spitting out my words
I do not like their taste –
I’ve been thinking too much lately
now I’m fat around my waist

I’ve been seeing the small hours
without sleep’s dead embrace –
I’ve directed thoughts to work
on your holes and your disgrace

I’ll wash my mouth with alcohol
to remove the lines I hate –
whilst the bitter hit of whisky
sets my mind to sleep awake

And if we survive this winter
without a thaw across the lake
then we will skate more fearlessly
since the ice will take our weight

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