[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

We meet at 12.

The drizabone’s behind the door,
inclemency arrives.
I must decide, I must be sure
I’m in the nine of lives.

We meet at 12

The raincoat holds the shape of me
so can’t it go instead?
It holds the emptiness you see
that’s in my hands and head.

We meet at 12

The time moves slow with doomsday ticks
the pressure is obscene.
The raincoat of excuse should fix
or hide what I have been.

We meet at 12

I am articulate yet dumb.
There has to be an end.
I’ve always known this time will come
but wonder who they’ll send

to meet with me at 12.