You now have this cold in the head.
Your night is stretched out before it
Like distant sea’s hum over a sleep.
Unending it hums between your ears
Like voices mum heard in last years.
You have caught up with the voices
As nose just runs a canal on bridge.
The forehead is as molten summer
And you see the voices of last years
As chimeras evaporating on tar road ,
The road makers in vaporous gloves.
Things are a vapour of voices heard.
You are nearly there in the chimeras.
Rubber gloves melt in day’s vapour.