I woke late one morning

I woke late one morning
and the air was hot and dry,
my tongue was chalked transparent
and around it coughed a sigh,

I rose through sounds of sunlight
children out about for hours,
pissed with the bath door open
and sacrificed the shower,

lit my first morning cigarette
from a pack I did not buy,
ashed in an empty beer can
from some earlier July,

and stayed sitting on the sofa
staring at the locked front door
for what might have been an hour
of not thinking it, before

I moved out through the kitchen
watching dust float through the sun,
and put on a pot of coffee
knowing I'm the only one.