노숙 (Homeless)

By | 6 August 2011

Removing your clothes like old newsprint
I lay you down raw on a damp mattress and look down on you.
Your gnarled hands and feet, that have lost their vigor,
the traces of skinny limbs and ribs, how weary they look.
I’m sorry.
Using you, I earned a living,
got a woman and started a family but
the only things left are stale sweat and a nightmare road.
Again I laid you, docile,
in a secluded corner of unfamiliar ground.
What else could I do?
I’m not saying there were no good days, yet
there’s little hope I can ever pay even a meager wage for your labors.
Now I’m wondering if I would like to go away quietly,
simply leaving you sleeping here.
What about it, body?

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