(co-written with Lisa)
He gets up at 5 AM comes home 12 hours later
Resting beneath the shadows of glass fragments
In a garage flying and tired
Life rings at the door and outside stands
A man with a die for an eye and some jailhouse bars
Steaming at the bottom of a lake. Seaweeds ruin
The castles of sand in his brain. Lottery tickets
Are teared to pieces like the red rose stem grown out
Of the soup that's boiling alarmingly
He looks at the door-handle and cuts himself on
Anonymous answering machines in the tent
Cuts himself on trampled chips
Of monster movies seen in the sky
The music forms clouds of unbreakable glass
Mikael Ejdemyr
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/motor-mechanic/
