I leave the poems in water
I leave the poems in water hoping this will improve them
They look more interesting wet, the pages buckled
But the water does not enliven the words, does not give them life
The poems stay dry as deserts, the starch will not wash
The clear tap water is not improved by the poems
It is absorbed into the anthology like a spirit into a lie
Given a choice I believe I prefer the tap water
Put a steel gate in front of the sun
Put a steel gate in front of the sun so I can’t get in
Treasures in heaven I have none
Bar the door to the stars ignore my knock and turn the key in the lock
Treasures in heaven, I have none
Put ballast into my dreams so that they cannot float away into the scarlet day
Treasures in heaven I have none
My treasury is empty in the mountains, by the fountains
Alone I fall down the waterfall into the darkened hall
What have I got to give a broken heart, a patched-up soul
Treasures in heaven – all I have is the dole that you gave me
All I have is the dole
