Hole

All morning long it’s dripped away
A leakage in my memory;
I search the pipe work in my brain
But can’t find where it’s coming from.

All afternoon it laps away,
It draws across my memory
Leaving nothing in its tide
But scratches in my psychic eye.

I send the plumber of my thoughts
To climb inside the cavity.
There it finds a historic bleed
Encased inside my last nights dream. .

Together now my thoughts and I,
We lay this capsule in my hand,
We tap its shell, remove its head
Stagger back, hit by the smell

And as we try to see what’s what
Under all that sticky mess
Some tiny nasty thing crawls out
Shakes itself and flits away.