Fog on Fenceline

You receive alarums in dreams,
Alerts turned prefigurations.
Your moaning door announces
Your duty for this day, so

You make, you breastfeed;
You breastfeed, you get drunk;
You find her, together drink smoke,
Πίνω μπάφο, πίνω μπάφο—

This is your only way here,
One moment in whose synthesis
You stand and recollect
Nostalgically this present

Where two sad, cold feet huddle
Closer, toe rough ledge, lipping
Their πάτερ ἡμῶν as our fiend,
Unseen, comes in.

Why such obvious ingress?
Why these guards cannot see her?
Why does walk like smoke?
What causes him to look

Just when at crest of house
Eagle past? What causes him
To ratchet head, gaze back
In reverse?

                 And down here,
Ημέρα της κρίσης, death.
Bones won't stay still; this
Very earth rejected them,

As you must come to, through
Gray, gentle slats of light,
Day promised by low fog,
Where outside, it waits.