at least

    I still have my health. All's well at work
    besides the paltry lunch breaks. But I'll live.
    My lungs are both intact. And by some quirk
    two roses survived. I make enough to give
    to Oxfam, Red Cross and St John's. I sleep
    most nights. I swallow without weeping now.
    The sink is clean. My heart's not maggot-eaten.
    The milk I drink is not yet past expiry.
    Tuesday follows Monday. Someone died,
    it's in the papers. Seven times I've beaten
    Halo on the hardest setting -- how
    exactly is recorded in my diary.
    Putting one foot before the other, I keep
    my balance. Paint dries. Today I haven't cried.

06 April 2004   13:02 hours
the bridge { } a civil servant preps his staff