Black teeth Cold stone The group of twenty-six struggles on New grass His moan It rings and visits me every morning In my freshest state I wake and wait For it to arrive It wastes No time Reminding me of what I didn't do To help you through The wind is battering my back And shattering my posture Is permanently slumped The books inside my head Have found a new home On the floor Stacks to make me trip And make me fall Records of the things I didn't Do I keep the long list on my phone And study every evening While she moans Did you finish? Did you finish? Of what I didn't do To help you through