My lower back is a cesspool of sweat 
and the regret that drips down 
from my heart when I am sleeping. 

I am fat and gross
and gross and fat
but at least I am alive and happy, sometimes.

my ears hear music
and I have a few things going
for me in the short run of riches.

that's all one can guess at or ask or risk,
to be alive, to find pleasure in a few things called moments
and to keep trying, tirelessly, despite.