Also, I'll Have Rabies

In three days
when they've put the raptors back in their cages
and catalogued all their favourite magazines
now used to paper prison roofs
I will drink coffee still
shaking and dressed in newspapers

as I walk blind to my job at the morgue
where I will daydream of shoe polish
and proper sausage preparation

while outside the drums keep going
and my one half-dead co-worker
says nothing except
how different things were
just three days ago.