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Call me, Pierre

For at this moment, I’m not here:

No, at this moment,

I couldn’t be here if I tried.



True, I’m one among the faces

In the sea that is this room,

But it’s just the body it embraces -

My spirit does not grace it.



Still, somehow, all things penetrate.

I hear the clicking pens,

The snoring of my neighbours

While my mind keeps shouting, ‘When?’



How much longer ‘til I’m out of here?

When will this discourse end?

Will he never let us out of here?

How much air can one expend?



For the day belongs to spirit-folk,

The sun-babies and me

But a body saw fit to bring me here,

Away from all the cheer



And, now, a moment finds me wandering…

Outside, beyond this room,

Where sprightly, intact spirits play

Beneath the rays of day



Free to prance, and breeze about

Through life with love at will

Away from gloomy, doomsday-talk

And contents of, ‘The Bill…’



And though I’ve tried, with every second,

Not to measure every tick,

I know I’ve lost and won a battle  

Just by letting my mind slip.