yawn

the sweet strains of sleep
wringing itself in the coriander
where untold caricatures of tap
water and drunken folly frolick.

wandering through pipe dream
pint after pint of drowzy drifting
piquant moments drowned under
bland direction and sullen sulk

of brown rust and tired brass
at the crossroads where echoes sleep
and the tap at the end pulls us
ashore