Not Writer,

What threadt hides here in the walls?
An ibis-white dwell

In exhausted slumber you’ll
Dream to tap plaster
With a ha ha ha mer

Sweating with lathor,
Crawling to the shower
Gliding over
Aught but the hours

A nightmare had thorough
A needle eye
Done like a camel,
Binder hair coarse and black
Pleural fear, knotted back
Tumorous lungs, a heart attack