You can change / with your last breath / and you can change / with your last breath / writes Bertolt Brecht / and in the book of change / you turn the page and turn / the page until there you are / a bus a train a short walk / into your life but what / you feel is that you might be / dying as whatever it is / that desires in you / that hopes that moves / has slid the brightness up / on your morning window / a cloud down on your mind. / With a whistle / only you can hear / an invisible leash and collar / fit for your neck a label / for your name you are / its dog now up too early / now somehow on a run. / A run?—you who hates / to run asks—me?