There is something timeless

about traffic

washing through

wet streets

and I’ll be listening to it

when I’m an old man.

I’ve been protected

on this bed

resting

my whole life

I can’t rid myself

from it

even with its crooked frame

and broken springs

It’s old

in new apartments

and all of my good ideas

come from it

I’m a bachelor

so, I eat my meals in bed

I create life

on it,

watch movies

from it,

and love my lumpy mattress

If I can sleep through life

and dream

and those dreams waken

something real inside me

I’ll get out of bed for that

but until then

I’ll just lie here

and rest

the things of life

don’t interest me

magical mornings do

with the sun shining through

and I’ll die on my bed

waiting for that.