Broken Fingers

the words come fleeting and tarnished in the blackness of booze and i never remember from moment to moment great lines of changing poesy stuttered in my head and broken by my fingers the life is never in life what it is in dreams as gold reaches 900/ounce my dreams are strange and unwanted and there in the brain as the doldrums pass by through another day of victory- less work the concrete grey the checkbook red the want for word vibrant like a rainbow in a little girls eye and her dollies play more at me than with her