Rest

I sleep my face inches
    away from the smoked
    stained walls of my
    room
On sheets still dirty for
    I cannot produce
    seventy-five cents
My tiny bedroom in
    apartment located here
    in Mecca
It should be well lit and
    celebrated but bulb is
    burnt and no confetti
    falls
My room my sanctuary
    my brothel my home
It is no more than a
    closet filed with things
I possess one picture that
    is framed in gold and
    hangs opposite my
    bed
It is pencil art of crane on
    one leg

It is an ugly picture

An ugly picture for an
    ugly room for ugly
    man
Time is not wasted here
    on cosmetics
Time is not wasted here
    for time is not real
    here
Like the crane is not real
    nor frame nor apartment
    not sheets nor bed nor
    room

I sleep my face inches

    away from the smoked

    stained walls of my

    room

-H. Charles Johnson