ACCIDENT AT THE GRAVEL PIT
by  Bobber

My hand passes through your hair,
useless since the gears
caught hold of my fingers.
I didn't have a chance to cry,
my tears were swept away
when my eyes were slawed 
on the chained belt.

Soon you'll only seep a tear
and wipe it away with a sleeve
when you're tired or drunk,
and I'll pass a nothing kiss
over that drip.

Keep breathing for me,
I'm still here, making your blinds
move up instead of down, 
untying your shoes, burning your toast;
life sucks as a ghost, I want to love you
but I can't send roses
when I'm the concrete 
of your neighbor's new driveway.