M is Tired, Goes into Poetic, Angry Delirium

So tired that...
my bones are literally aching,
anchor heavy bones with lead marrow
weighing me down with each step.
A struggle between life and drowning
as I try my best to make it
to the 2 train...and
just miss it.
Every fucking time.
Seriously-
every fucking god damn time!

Nothing to do but sit down
and slump
next to woman slumped
like shabbily dressed statue,
her treasures overflowing out of
push cart tenement,
mobil mess absorbing me,
washing over me in waves,
becoming a part of my tired.

Train comes bursting out of horizon,
ten minutes to Union square,
then up steps like currents
More walking. Pushing.
Pushing some more.
Get the fuck out of my way!
My arms hurt, my feet hurt
even my sole hurts.
My bones ache, heavy with lead.
Anchor weighted bones dragging me down.

On the street like water at midnight.
Big puffy parka man shuffling to
his ipod, techno music blaring.
Camel colored boot girl
on cell phone announcing her drama.
She's got her period.
Lady with baby stroller... Love me.
Please, please, please,
can I laid down and rest
in your tiny canoe and cruise?
Will you push me home?
Coasting, just coasting.
But no, I'll just walk slowly behind
stuck behind traffic.
Ruminating - Every fucking time!

Two more blocks.
Long avenues across town.
Stopped crossing at the stoplight.
Why don't you fucking change!
Anticipating the green light,
risking oncoming tides of yellow taxis,
risking it all to be two steps ahead
of the pack waiting patiently,
three steps closer to home.
Sweet home, my sweet bed,
a warm pool of comfort.
To lay down...stop draging my body,
stop pulling this anchor.
Just dock and dream.

Up steps to my apartment.
Fourth floor walk up
rising like tsunami force with vengence.
Old man in front of me taking one step forward
then rocking back,
creating his own ripples.
Should I push him up,
push past him, sit down
and rest untill he has made it?
Move your fucking ass old man!
Old man with anchor heavy bones,
bones filled with leaden marrow.
Will I be you someday?
The female,
less bald, but more cranky version?

Finally reach door,
fumble for keys with dumbell fingers,
inside, shoes flung off and face down into
bed, ready to float into nod, lay
down my anchor in r.e.m. and pass into a dream.

There I am, my body not my own
with anchor hands, anchor feet and
leaden bones.
I dream on and on and on.
I dream of being tired.

Every time.
Every fucking god damn time!